


ob⋅ses⋅sion

by Scrcndpty



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bucky Barnes Has Panic Attacks, Bucky Barnes Is a Space Nerd, Comfort, F/M, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Light Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Swearing, i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-03 07:05:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13335993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrcndpty/pseuds/Scrcndpty
Summary: Steve Rogers was built by the gods. Hewas a god.Fluffy golden hair, baby blue eyes, stupid perfect teeth. And don’t even start with his body! The ridiculoustinyshirts he always wore stretching over his chest, whole body bulging with muscles when he so much as fucking walked!You would thank him if he crushed you to dead with his body.Steve Rogers is a god, and you are not the only one who has aslightcrush on him. But instead of kneeling before him like all the other girls at the campus might do, you watch from afar - attracting someone else's attention.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Never thought I would have an idea like this, but I really like it, and I have too much planned for it already.
> 
> Originally posted on tumblr.

_ob⋅ses⋅sion_

noun: the domination of one’s thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, desire, etc.

 

 

_You are not obsessed. You are not obsessed. You are not obsessed._

The phrase repeated itself over and over in your head, all while you raised your hands, your golden StarkPhone clutched in your fingers. It was a custom-built model.

No longer having _him_ in your direct line of sight, you looked at _his_ form at your display now, not even bothering to wait until the lens adjusted to sharpen the picture; everything blurry could be edited after. You just pressed the button to snap a picture – and kept it pressed to snap at least three dozens more in only a few seconds.

“Perfect,” you breathed, smiling a little bit creepily as you went through your newest collection of pictures. The voice of your conscience was there, albeit quiet. However, your mantra yelling even louder and the lack of sense of shame made it easy to choke off even the tiniest noise made by your conscience. Sometimes you wondered why it even bothered showing up.

Anyways, other things were more important now. For example that _he_ just had the cutest smile ever on his face. Eyes widening only a bit, you opened up your camera app once again, blessing your own genius that you had been able to make Stark phones even more faster. It became even better when _he_ raised his arms to cover his face while trying to stifle his giggling, making the muscles in his arms bulge. (It was a shame _he_ covered his face, but _the muscles!_ )

You sighed dreamily, snapped another couple of pictures. Thank the heavens you mastered your poker face _years_ ago, otherwise you had long been caught kind of stalking the University’s Golden Boy. (No, not really stalking, you just snapped a few pictures. Sometimes. For research purpose. For science.) For all the other students on the campus you looked just like a bored girl, head resting on your arms on the table, playing some random game on your phone, even though in your head the little person yelling your mantra over and over just kicked your conscience’s ass.

Who could judge you for not being obsessed? Steve Rogers was built by the gods. He _was a god_. Fluffy golden hair, baby blue eyes, stupid perfect teeth you would like to punch when your obsession creeped even you out. And don’t even start with his body! The ridiculous _tiny_ shirts he always wore stretching over his chest (you swore this man had more boobs than you), whole body bulging with muscles when he so much as fucking walked!

You would thank him if he crushed you to dead with his body.

As if it couldn’t be topped already, Steve was also incredibly polite. When you transferred to S.H.I.E.L.D. University, you thought that, as the captain of the football team, Steve would have the job to kick nerd ass, but no! He was the guy getting the nerds out of fights, even sticking by post-fight to make sure the poor guy who had his ass handed to himself got properly taken care of.

Of course you weren’t the only one who fancied Steve. He had is own personally club of hysterically screeching girls, following him nearly everywhere. Technically, you weren’t really different; you just preferred to drool from the distance, without any screeching and squealing. Furthermore, you thought that showering the guy with gifts was just nonsense. He once received a package which contained the girl’s _panties_ , probably a pair she even wore before! Rogers blushed (adorably, you might add), and gave the panties back to the girl, all while his one friend Sam Wilson laughed his ass off and the other, James Barnes, Steve called him Bucky and no one understood why, even smirked. (You were told that it was really rare that Bucky showed his emotions.)

At one point, staring at Steve during classes didn’t last long enough, so you started taking these pictures. But, to maintain even a little bit of your dignity, you neither sent the pictures around nor did you do anything else with them that could embarrass Steve; you may be kind of a stalker, but you weren’t a total creep.

Satisfied, you stared at your pictures one last time before you stuffed your phone away, picked up your bag, and stood to make your way to the cafeteria. Now that you concentrated on everything else than Steve and your (ridiculous) crush on him, you heard your body’s call for food and most importantly coffee.

You passed Steve and his friends, but before you could push open the doors to enter the building, your name was called by Steve. Turning, you morphed your resting bitch face to a poker face.

“Yes?”

Internally, you screamed. Not because you feared you’d been caught (you were too good to be caught), but because he simply talked with you. This didn’t happen for the first time, but all the times before, Steve only talked with you because he -

“Could I borrow your notes from the robotic class? I understood absolutely nothing last time and I _really_ need to pass.”

\- because he only wanted something from you to help himself.

You were silent for a few seconds, muscles in your face not moving even a bit, while Steve sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. And internally you were screaming again, but for entirely other reasons this time.

Sam and Bucky, who had talked with each other, paused to watch you and Steve. Suppressing the sigh and the urge to roll your eyes, you let your backpack slip from your shoulder, opening it to search for your notes.

“Thanks a lot!” said Steve, accepting the notebook you held out for him. “I owe you.”

“It’s no problem,” you said, closing you bag and throwing it back over your shoulder. “Just give it back next robotic class, Rogers.”

“Of course,” said Steve, smiling brightly. You returned it, albeit forced and definitely not genuinely.

These conversations always left you hollow. Steve was hot, he was a nice guy, but somehow he didn’t seem to notice that he just used you to his advantage. Of course, he was grateful of your help, but in moments like these you asked yourself why you did this anymore.

You pushed those thoughts away, eyes searching for your friends. Wanda spotted you first, hand shooting into the air to get your attention. With a sigh you plopped down next to her brother Pietro, head immediately resting on the table. And of course Wanda knew exactly what happened; sometimes you had the feeling she could read your mind.

“What did Rogers want?” asked Pietro, sliding you a cup of coffee.

“Nothing important,” you said, grabbing for the coffee and downing half of it in one go.

Wanda eyed you warily, one hand with perfectly manicured red fingernails pushing back a strand of brown locks. “Did he ask for your notes again?”

You nodded your head, waiting for Pietro to set down the sandwich he also got for you, before picking it up yourself. “Of course. That is the only thing he wants from me.”

“You should stop being so obsessed with him,” she said, accent getting heavier. “It’s not good for you.”

“I’m not obsessed,” you objected, hitting Pietro’s shoulder as he snorted.

Wanda sighed, shaking her head as she watched you stuffing your mouth with the sandwich. She knew it was pointless to argue with you, so she switched the topic. Soon, you forgot about your down, laughing as Wanda tried to prevent Pietro from flirting with one of the younger students in dirty Russian.

What you didn’t notice was the lingering gaze of none other than Bucky Barnes, who thought for quite some time now that something just wasn’t right about you.


	2. Chapter 2

You wanted to meet up with Wanda after your last class at the library. There was an extra room for students who didn't want to study all by themselves, but with at least one more person, so those studying alone weren't disturbed.

Wanda wasn't there, yet, so you picked out a table in a more secluded corner, sitting down so you could gaze out of the window with your back to the entrance. You preferred it if you could pretend that you didn't see people coming in, giving an excuse to not have to talk to them, however, you still could see their reflections in the glass of the window.

Your phone vibrated with a message from Wanda, saying something about Pietro 'being an ass again.' She would arrive in a few minutes.

Sending a quick reply, you pulled out your notes all the same. Wanda always said you'd study together, but she knew it was more you helping her study regarding that you were - and that was how she put it once - 'a genius just like your brother, and sometimes you are as big as an asshole as he.'

Pietro nearly had fallen over when Wanda had said this, clutching his stomach as he was laughing. You had been grinning, too, saying that she was kind of right.

Trying to pass some time, you picked up your phone again, this time really playing some random game. You yawned as you send flippy bird yet another time crashing into one of the columns.

"You don't seem to be very good at this."

Your phone nearly slipped from your fingers, and your head jerked to the side.

Bucky wasn't fazed in the slightest at the scowl directed at him. Without even asking if you were fine with it, he pulled back the chair right beside you, arms crossed in front of his chest as he took the seat.

His eyes, a mixture of pale blue and stormy gray, were focused on you, and it unnerved you. You didn't show it, though, returning his intense stare with just as much force.

"Just so you know: my record is over five thousand points, second before the world record."

Bucky chuckled at your fierceness, lips pulled into a smile that lasted only a few seconds.

"Well, that's still only the second best."

Rolling your eyes, you locked your phone with a simple gesture and turned your head back to stare out of the window.

Bucky still had his eyes fixed on you, and you could practically feel his gaze burning into you.

"Is there something you want from me?" you asked him, hands reaching for a pen to twirl it between your fingers. He didn't answer right away, just bent down to pick up his backpack, all while _still fucking_ _looking_ at you.

"Got ya' your notes. From robotic class." Bucky hold it out to you, but you didn't take it.

"Steve doesn't need it anymore? I gave it to him this morning," you said, eyeing your own notebook warily.

"He took pictures of the things he needed," Bucky answered, waving the notebook. He tossed it on the table after a few seconds of you not moving a muscle.

"That's the only reason you came here?"

Bucky smiled once more. "Oh, no. No, no. Ain't the only one." He didn't say anything more.

You frowned. "Care to explain?"

Chest heaving visibly, Bucky drew in a big breath, his grin widened, showing a glimpse of pearl white teeth.

This - whatever _this_ exactly was - had something weird. Strange. Odd. _And absolutely suspicious._

Your eyes narrowed at Bucky.

Did he know about your ~~obsession~~ crush? Did he know about the whole kind-of-stalking-thing? He didn't see you, did he? What if he did notice after all? Oh god, he probably would tell Steve, and then he knew you were a total creep, a freaking stalker, who took pictures of him because fucking staring wasn't even enough. And in only a few days the whole university would knew, and then your brother, and then the _whole fucking world_ -

"Nah."

Bucky shook his head, hand waving dismissively. His grin looked disgustingly satisfied now, and he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue.

"Are you fucking serious?" you asked, staring at him in disbelief.

Bucky shrugged. "I will tell you," he said, moving to grab his backpack, "someday. For sure."

"What the fuck, Barnes."

Laughing, Bucky stood up, and threw his bag over his shoulder. After the first few steps he paused for a moment, turning back to you.

"It was nice talking to you, doll." He winked. "See ya' 'round."

  


* * *

  


Your, uh, 'conversation' with Bucky had left you pondering. What was the reason Bucky had searched for you, apart from giving you back your notebook?

Why the sudden interest in your presence?

Wanda was (more or less) happily writing away at some calculations, giving you enough time to think.

James Barnes, everyone called him Bucky because Steve did; personally you thought that this nickname was absolutely ridiculous, but well, at the same time it kind of suited him.

Anyways, he was known to be Steve's friend since practically forever, nothing could split these two. He was the vice captain of the football team, apparently a good fighter, too, and bickered with Sam Wilson _a lot_.

Remarkable interactions between you and Bucky? One. Which was thirty minutes ago.

He didn't talk much with other people, except, of course, Sam and Steve. It was rare that someone saw him smile or show any emotion at all, although it was said that he once had acted absolutely differently. Wanda had explained that something - nobody knew what - happened during holidays, that had Bucky, well, changed.

And according to Pietro, Bucky had been a total lady’s man himself, before closing off like this.

You didn't really care about what happened in Bucky's past (okay, you were curious, just like everyone else), it was more important to get to know why Bucky suddenly talked with you and why he had freaking _smiled so much!_

An eraser bounced off your forehead.

"What the -! Wanda!"

Wanda snickered as she picked up her eraser again. "I was talking to you, Y/N. I called your name a lot, but you didn't react. My toss was _excellent!_ "

You glared at her, but this stopped having an effect on her after the first few times after you two met, and became friends. Instead she just smiled at you and slid you her piece of paper with the solved calculations.

"I'm finished," she said.

One last scowl was directed at her, before you checked her solutions.

"Eighth answer is wrong, but everything else is fine. Good job."

Wanda smiled and took her work back, checking it herself to correct the mistake.

As the both of you moved on to robotics (shout out to Bucky for bringing you back your notes earlier than originally planned,  though Wanda grumbl ed something about having crowed too soon), you decided to leave the whole thing be.  Bucky had decided to exchange some words with you, what of it!

Apparently Bucky thought it was truly nice talking to you;  and  it  truly surprised you as Bucky planted his ass right beside you on the bench you were sitting on the next day. On the campus, where literally everybody could see you two.

Bucky ignored your frown and simply smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

His smile was kind of blinding, you noticed, as Bucky’s pearl white teeth shone in the sunlight.

“Hi,” Bucky said, shuffling just a little bit closer, “doll.”

You nearly blushed at the nickname.

“Hey,” you greeted back, drawing out the word. You swallowed, eyes narrowing at him. “What do you want?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, letting his gaze wander, lingering on your phone before it fell back on you. “Nothin’ special.”

He had startled you again as he had plopped down beside, at least this time you didn’t nearly drop your phone. Your first reaction was to lock it, then to stuff it back into the pocket of your jacket. Now Bucky was looking you right into your eyes (with his own, really beautiful eyes, blue, with a hint of gray, or silver), corners of his lips slightly pulled up.

“How are ya’?”

You stared at Bucky for a few seconds. “Good, I think.” Pausing you licked over your chapped lips. “What about you?”

Friendly. Yeah, you were just being friendly.

At your question Bucky seemed to fucking _bloom._ His posture got straighter, his smiled shined, if even possible, _brighter_ than before, and he was just fucking _beautiful,_ smiling down at you like this, corners of his eyes crinkled in delight.

You nearly lost your shit.

“I’m excellent. Now I am.”

The grip on your phone inside your jacket tightened as you stared at Bucky, once again a million questions speeding through your head.

You lost your shit. A little.

Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to look away, bending over to pick up your backpack from the ground.

“It was fancy talking with you, but I have to go,” you said, voice as (surprisingly) calm as it could get. Bucky answered something, you weren’t exactly able to register it, though. He gave you a small wave, lips slightly parted and head tilted, what made him look even more beautiful.

You were so distracted by it, you didn’t notice Steve looking at you. He even smiled at you (inwardly asking since when you talked with his Buck), but you had your eyes strictly set forward.

Bucky was a little bit disappointed that you practically  _fled_ from him, but he chose to see the whole thing relaxed. They were enough chances to get to know you.

And to find out why exactly you took hundreds of pictures of his best friend.

  


* * *

  


“It’s weird, you know? We never really talked before, and out of nowhere Barnes shows up, apparently hell bent on being my, uh, _friend_ or some shit.

“But I just don’t understand it. Wanda and Pietro are my only friends at university, okay? Okay. I don’t need anybody else. I appreciate them, and they are more than enough. But Barnes approached me nevertheless. And I think the whole ‘just to giving you back your notes’ was an excuse.

“Anyways, there is still this big fat ‘why?’ Maybe I came off inviting. Do you think I am inviting? I mean, when you look at me, do I seem like I want to be friends with you? Do you have the feeling you want to be friends _with me?”_

Rhodey stared at you, a little bit speechless. Even though he knew you for quite some time now, knew you (and Tony) could talk and babble endlessly for hours on end, he sometimes got overwhelmed. Too much information, and at the end he should give a statement? It seemed impossible, occasionally.

However, Tony, your brother, didn’t even need to look up from the tablet he was working on to a) comprehend what you were talking about, and b)give his own opinion, without any filter.

“No,” he answered your question, “when I look at you, you don’t even seem to want me to look at you. Your eyes bore into my very soul, making looking at you incredibly uncomfortable, because with one look it seems that you exposed my darkest secret.”

It always amazed Rhodey how nonchalant you took in Tony’s honesty. Most of the time you completely agreed with him, admitted to even your worst quirks. In return you granted Tony your full honesty as well.

“Oh my god, “ you exclaimed, totally unaffected of what Tony said, “Pietro once said the exact same!

“So, why does Barnes come to me? Even after, as I was told, his open personality made a one-eighty to totally closed off after summer.”

Groaning dramatically, you slumped over the table top. “Rhodey, what do you think about the situation?”

Rhodey laughed, a warm hand moving to pet your head, stroking over strands of h/c hair.

“I’m sorry, munchkin, I don’t think I can help you with that, but I am sure you will figure something out.”

“Of course I will, I am a genius,” you said, grinning when Rhodey rolled his eyes.

Tony snorted, though, this time looking up from his work. “Y/N, my sweet little baby sister, you may be a genius, but you are socially incompetent as fuck.”

You pouted, while Rhodey threw Tony a horrified look.

“Rude, Tones, rude.”

“But he’s right, I guess.” You sighed, took Tony’s hand, that was now laying beside his tablet on the table, and started to fiddle with his fingers.

“Nonsense,” Rhodey objected, while Tony got back to pay attention to his work, though he held onto your fingers.

“I am sure,” Rhodey continued, “you will be able to sort this out, and maybe you and this Barnes figure become friends or something like this.” He smiled at you encouragingly, and you couldn't help but smile back.

“Of course.”

  


* * *

  


It was nearly funny to see how Bucky’s kind of nearly popped out of his head when you greeted him the next time you saw him in the cafeteria, sitting at a table with Sam and Steve.

It was nothing special, really. You just looked him in the eyes as well, and nodded. “Barnes,” you had said in greeting,  trying hard not to burst out laughing at the expression on his face.

“Socially incompetent as fuck, huh,” you murmured to yourself, slamming down your cup of coffee and your sandwich on the table Pietro and Wanda were sitting at.

Pietro were turned to the table Bucky sat at, grinning as he looked from him back to you. “Is there something you want to tell us?” he asked, watching how you unwrapped your sandwich.

“Apparently, Barnes wants to get to know me or so,” you explained, “I don’t understand why, but I decided to just go with it.”

You took a sip of your coffee, but by now it was nearly impossible to hold back your laughter. “Did you see his expression?” you asked your friends, giggling and nearly choking as you tried to swallow and talk at the same time.

Pietro laughed with you as Wanda rolled her eyes, but you could see she tried to hide her smile, too.

“This will be so much fun!”

It wouldn’t be “so much fun” like you thought at the beginning, but you didn’t know that at the time. For now, it was funny, especially as you saw how Sam teased Bucky endlessly, nearly falling off of his seat as he laughed even hard er than you and Pietro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all those sweethearts leaving kudos and comments - you're the best and I love y'all!


	4. Chapter 4

You didn't notice it, but Bucky was staring at you. He didn't exactly hide it, but he wasn't too obvious, either.

Too bad Sam was staring at him as well after _he_ caught Bucky staring at you, and he was still contemplating when he will have enough of this and call Bucky out on it.

When Steve started talking about how Bucky seemed to seek your company, or at least he seemed to absolutely want to exchange some words with you, Sam only had shrugged his shoulders and told Steve he imagined things. Well, now he saw how Bucky stared at you, and Sam wasn't so sure about Steve imagining things anymore.

You only transferred to S.H.I.E.L.D. University three months ago, at the beginning of the new semester. Nobody knew why exactly you gave up your study place at M.I.T. at the end of the last semester, and this at the age of eighteen! You mostly kept to yourself, only having made friends with the Maximoff twins ridiculously fast.

So, why did Bucky suddenly take an interest in you, even after the incident? Sam had no answer for that, and judging by the look on Steve's face when he first told Sam about it, Bucky's best friend didn't have an answer either.

So did Sam watch how Bucky watched how you were playfully bickering with Pietro, and then started to throw skittle after skittle out of your freshly opened package at him. Wanda looked kind of annoyed, even more so when the whole banter turned to a game as Pietro began to catch the skittles with his mouth.

Bucky smiled a tiny smile, still looking at you.

Sam grew concerned, still looking at Bucky.

Steve, who just arrived at the table, looked at his friends as well, then decided not to ask when none of them got ready to even acknowledge his presence, shrugged his shoulders, and just started to dig into his lunch.

The silly-argument-turned-into-a-game you and Pietro got into had attracted the attention of several other students in the cafeteria, some of them cheering every time Pietro caught a skittle in his mouth, which was - well, every time you threw one. Wanda still looked very annoyed, but she simply continued to eat her own lunch.

At one point though, you had thrown your last skittle, the crowd cheering even louder as Pietro caught this one, too. He stood, bowing in a dramatic manner at the applause.

"Thank you, thank you," he said, one hand pushing back the strands of silvery hair that had fallen into his eyes before he pointed a finger at you. "Please, let's hear it for Y/N!"

You hid your laughter behind your hand, but your eyes shone with joy in a bright e/c. Bucky turned his head, eyes back on his meal, and he picked up his fork. It was then that he finally realized Steve sitting beside him. Bucky looked up, smiling at the blonde.

"Oh, hey, Steve!" He saw Steve's half eaten lunch. "Since when are you sitting here?"

“I don’t know,” Steve said, taking a sip out of his water bottle. “Maybe ten minutes?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, not minding much that he didn’t notice Steve’s arrival. However, the next thing the blonde said had him nearly choking.

“Since when are _you_ staring at Y/N?”

Sam broke out into a fit of laughter at the expression on Bucky’s face, and Steve could also not hide his smile, a little snort escaping his lips.

Bucky caught himself relatively fast, a smirk playing on his features to hide his previous surprise. “None of ya business, Rogers, I’ve plausible reasons.”

“Oh, is that so?” Steve asked sarcastically. “Care to share those ‘plausible reasons’ with the class?”

Sam still chuckled, but Bucky only grinned. “Not yet.”

He looked back at you. You were typing away at your phone now, the turmoil because of your and Pietro’s little game having died down by now. But Bucky knew the 'typing’ was just a facade to hide that you just had took pictures of Steve, probably as he was laughing.

Anyways, after his short glance your way, he looked back at Steve, only now thinking about the fact you secretly took pictures of the blonde, but didn’t jump on him every chance you got, like all the other girls on campus.

“There are just some things I need t’find out.”

  


* * *

  


Bucky had been right about you taking pictures of Steve, but when he had looked at you (without you noticing of course), you were typing a text for real this time.

After you were done, you wolfed down the rest of the cheeseburger you had gotten in a short trip to Burger King when you had been skipping the last few minutes of your computer science class.

“You are leaving?” Wanda asked.

“Yep,” you answered, “got a message, need to leave. You gonna be okay in robotics?”

Wanda rolled her eyes, waving her hand at you. “Don’t remind me, Y/N,” she whined, “I don’t even know why I visit robotics anymore; I hate it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you studying later then.”

You hugged her goodbye, flipped Pietro your middle finger, who returned the gesture without even looking, but an amused grin on his features.

It wasn’t the first time that you had suddenly left and therefore skipped some more classes, but Pietro and Wanda stopped asking after the first few times you successfully avoided their questions.

Really, they didn’t have to worry. You could ace your classes in your sleep, you didn’t do anything illegal, nor something dangerous. The only things being in danger when you visited the Parker household were your ears.

“Y/N!”

Little three-year-old Peter was standing in the doorway, his eyes lightning up when he spotted you at the far end of the hallway, your name leaving his lips in an excited but shrill shout.

“Hey, peanut!” you greeted him back, hand ruffling his hair as he ran to you, latching onto your leg. He squeezed tight before pulling back, and stretching out his arms, making grabby hands.

You heaved him up, resting him on your hip while he snaked his arms around your neck. Peter giggled, slightly bouncing up and down in your hold.

“Auntie May!” he said, again a little bit louder than necessary, “Y/N is here!”

Closing the door to the small apartment behind you, you kicked off your shoes and shifted Peter a bit to get arm after arm free to slip off your backpack, as well.

May Parker looked a bit disheveled, a tired but genuine smile on her lips as she spotted you and Peter.

“I figured that much, Peter,” she laughed. “Hello, Y/N, so glad you’d been able to come. I know you have classes, and I wouldn’t have asked if I had another choice. Is this really okay?”

“Yes, of course, May,” you reassured her. “I’ll be more than fine in my classes.”

“Thank you _so_ much! Peter was standing at the door way waiting for you since I mentioned that you’d come over.” May clasped her hands, pressing them to the middle of her chest. “I’ll just finish cooking lunch, maybe five more minutes, but then I already have to leave. Did you already eat?”

“Yes, but that’s no problem,” you said, tightening your grip on Peter as he slightly squirmed, signaling you that he was growing bored. “Just call us, I’ll keep the peanut busy so you can finish cooking without any disturbance.”

May thanked you again, and you wandered with Peter into the living room, setting him down. Apparently, he really dropped anything the moment he knew you were coming; a half-finished drawing was pushed to the side, hanging off the coffee table, a few pencils and crayons had toppled off the surface and onto the ground.

“What were you drawing, peanut?” you asked Peter, picking up the paper to examine it yourself. It was a drawing you expected from a toddler; sloppy, wrong proposition, a sun was drawn into the left top corner of the paper. Little Peter was a really smart kid even for his age – he sometimes reminded you of Tony and yourself in your first years – but drawing wasn’t his strong suit. Nevertheless, he found great joy in it.

Peter leaned forward, one tiny hand gripping your shirt to steady himself. “That’s a tree,” he explained, a chubby pointer finger poking the paper. “An apple tree. Isaac Newton is sitting under it; I drew him where he picks up the apple that fell on his head, and then he comes up with his theory of gravity!”

“I see,” you said, “is this for your collection of drawings of geniuses and great discoveries?”

“Of course!” Peter beamed at you and started his squirming again. After you had put him down, he perched in front of the coffee table again to finish his drawing. You watched him, gave your opinion when he asked for it, and played assistant by handing him the crayons he needed.

A few minutes in, May appeared, already clad in the clothes to go out. “Alright, kids, lunch is ready,” she said. “I’ll be going now and should hopefully be back before dinner.”

She picked Peter up so he could press a smooch on her cheek. “Bye, Auntie May.”

“See you, sweetheart. Behave for Y/N.”

“Always!” Peter grinned, once again stretching his arms, demanding to be hold by you.

“Just call if anything should happen,” May said as she handed Peter over, “Ben won’t be available, I’m afraid, and Mary and Richard are on a business trip, again.” She sighed, pushing a flick of hair out of her face. “If I don’t pick up, just try a few times again.”

“Relax, May, I’ve got this. The peanut will be as unproblematic as ever, right?”

Peter nodded his head enthusiastically, and with a final goodbye May was out of the door. You wandered with Peter clinging to you into the kitchen, spotting the lunch May made for the two of you.

“What is it?” Peter asked, peering with you into the pot.

“Spaghetti,” you answered, lifting the lid of a second, smaller pot. “And tomato sauce with meatballs.”

As cliché as it was, it was Peter’s favorite. You sat him down on his seat, where he waited patiently for you to prepare a plate of spaghetti with meatballs, one for him, and a smaller one for yourself, thinking it wouldn’t harm even though you already ate.

Peter babbled about his day, telling you how he found a spider under the sink in the bathroom, but May forbid him to play with her (Peter was absolutely sure it was a her) and abandoned her outside.

“Y/N, I want a spider as a pet. Do you think I can have a spider as a pet? Maybe I could teach her tricks.”

“Sure. If someone could teach a spider a trick, it would be you, peanut.”

Peter grinned, smearing more tomato sauce across his cheek when he missed his mouth with the meatball he actually wanted to put inside. It was one of your favorite moments, spending time with Peter.

Wanda and Pietro wouldn’t even believe you if you said you were babysitting a toddler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all those sweethearts leaving kudos and comments - you're the best and I love y'all!


	5. Chapter 5

After you and Peter had eaten, and you had cleaned him of any tomato sauce stains, Peter wanted to complete his drawing. You switched on the TV and started on some of your own assignments, occasionally turning your attention to the cartoon playing and to Peter, who quoted the lines he knew under his breath.

He showed you his finished drawing at the end, carefully put it to his collection of other finished drawings, and came back to the living room to bounce up and down in front of you, until you let him climb into your lap, finishing your assignments with your arms around his small form.

“Y/N?”

You hummed.

“Are you tired?”

“No, why?”

Peter shifted in your lap, turning to look at you, his tiny fingers gripping your arms to steady himself. “You’re yawning, all the time. And your eyelids seem to be heavy, because they are drooping.”

“Well, I may be a little bit tired. I’m sorry that we are only watching TV, and not play with something.”

“It’s all right, I love cartoons,” said Peter, a thoughtful expression on his face. “We can take a nap together if you want.”

“Oh, no, we don’t have to, peanut. I can see you wouldn’t sleep and just become incredibly boring.” You chuckled, smoothing over his short fluffy hair. “I can sleep when I am at home.”

Peter was stubborn, though. “No, you can take a nap, and I play some games on your phone.” He leaned closer. “Do they have new filters on Snapchat?”

“Yes, they have,” you retorted, sighed, and pulled out your phone, answering Peter’s request to just go to sleep while he would be playing games.

You quickly activated another protocol you built in to, um, protect Peter from the things on your phone he just shouldn’t see, and gave your phone to him. It always looked ridiculously huge in his hands.

“Thanks, Y/N!” Peter said, cheerfully and too loud once again. He waited until you had made yourself comfortable on the couch, then settled into your side to try out the new filters.

“Wake me up if you need something, alright, peanut? Doesn’t matter what, promise you will wake me.”

“Promised,” said Peter and giggled as he leaned down to press a smooch on your cheek. “Sleep tight, Y/N.”

  


* * *

  


You woke up a couple of hours later. Your phone was ringing, and you hurried to answer the call, not knowing how long it had already been ringing.

“Hello?” you asked, not having bothered to look who even was calling, voice sounding raspy as you pulled a sleeping Peter closer to avoid falling of the couch.

“Y/N? Here’s May.”

“Hey, May. What’s up?”

“Would it be okay if you would sleep at our place and bring Peter to the kindergarten tomorrow?”

May sounded a little bit frantic, and you frowned.

“Yeah, of course, it’s totally no problem. Is everything alright?”

“Ah, yes, yes.” She didn’t sound alright at all. “I’m just very tired, and angry that I won’t make it home, that I have to ask this of you – again.” She chuckled, though it didn’t sound genuine.

“As I said, no problem, May, I love spending time with Peter.”

“Thanks, Y/N, it means a lot to me.” She sniffled, but you opted not to comment on it.

“Gladly, May. You’ve got this.”

“Yeah, goodbye, Y/N.”

“Bye.”

You ended the call, and sunk back into the pillow on the couch. Laying there for a few minutes, you stroke over Peter’s hair and thought about how May sounded. You sighed, and looked at your phone, checking the time. A huge smile spread as you saw your lock screen; Peter had set one of the pictures he took as a new wallpaper. He had laid himself beside you while you were sleeping, using a cat filter when he took the picture, and he was looking too cute, little fingers of his free hand bend to resemble claws. God, you looked ugly, mouth half open in your sleep, marks of your wrinkled clothing on your cheek.

You kept the picture as your wallpaper, though. Peter’s cuteness compensated the sleepy ugliness.

  


* * *

  


“Peter! What’s taking you so long? We have to go!”

Peter’s head poked out of the door frame of his room. “I can’t reach my favorite socks!” he whined, and you sighed, stepping into his room to retrieve the socks. Of course you knew which his favorite socks were, those with little spiders on it, what else, and the box containing them was placed too high for him to reach.

You retrieved his socks, then ushered him out of the room as soon as he had put them on. Rushing back into the kitchen, you packed his little backpack, throwing in his sandwich, an apple (“An apple a day keeps the doctor away,” Peter had sung the first time you brought him to the kindergarten and prepared his breakfast), and a bottle of water. Shouldering your own, you helped Peter put on his backpack, took his hand, locked the door to the apartment, and made your way downstairs and to the location of Peter’s kindergarten.

“Will Auntie May and Uncle Ben come home soon, Y/N?” Peter asked you, grip on your hand tightening as he jumped from one paving stone to the other.

“I’m sure. She will pick you up from kindergarten and if not … then I will be there.”

Peter grinned up at you. “That’s fine, too,” he said, and his attention was already on something else. “Oh, Y/N, can I walk on the wall?”

He pointed his index finger at a low wall confining someone’s garden.

“Yeah, I think you can, peanut,” you answered, lifting him off the ground with your hands under his arms, and onto the wall. He was still smaller than you, but he reached your shoulder, where his hand was now to prevent him from falling if he should lose his equilibrium.

After a walk of ten minutes (or rather fifteen because on every corner Peter found something he wanted to inspect, “Because science, Y/N!”), you arrived at the kindergarten. You accompanied Peter inside, reported his arrival to one of the pre-school teachers, and helped him take off his jacket and shoes.

You were still on your knees, so Peter threw his arms around you to say goodbye.

“Goodbye, Y/N! Will you bring Tony the next time you come to visit me?”

“I can’t promise it, you know that Tony is busy with work and the company.”

“I know, but I really want to see him again.”

“I see what I can do,” you said, kissed the crown of his head, and watched him run off to his friends. Looking at your phone, you saw that you had – perfect, five minutes until your first class, and a twenty minute way to S.H.I.E.L.D. University.

You sighed, decided you could cut the entire class, go home now and return for classes in the afternoon.

“What are _you_ doing in a kindergarten?”

Flinching, you whirled around. “Holy motherfu-”

Clasping a hand over your mouth, you stopped talking before you would swear in front of the two kids who entered the building, their father sending you a judging glance.

“Barnes, what do you think you’re doing?” you hissed, glaring at the grinning man.

“I asked ya a question, I believe,” he said, but apparently wasn’t in favor when you just rolled your eyes and turned to go away.

“Hey, Y/N, wait!” he called, jogging the short way to catch up with you. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you,” he said, “it was a serious meant question.”

You kept walking and said nothing.

“Did ya drop off your li’l sister? Or brother?”

“I don’t have a little sister, nor a little brother.”

“Okay, um, who did ya drop off then?” he asked. “Where ya even there to drop someone off?”

“None of your business, Barnes.”

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N, I’m curious!” Bucky laughed, but you were growing annoyed.

“Ever heard of privacy?”

At this Bucky fell completely silent – and stopped walking. You frowned, and looked back. Bucky looked at you with his head tilted to the side, a small smile on his lips, his eyes twinkling. You didn’t know if you should be happy that he stopped asking questions, or if you should be panicking, because Bucky looked as if he could say something to come back at you.

It was the latter.

“Ain’t secretly taking pictures of someone also invading their privacy?”

You gawked.

Bucky tapped his chin in a mocking thoughtful expression, then shrugged his shoulders. “Well, see ya later, Y/N.”

He knew. Bucky knew, after all. You were fucked.

While you stood there, motionless and on the brink of cardiac arrest, Bucky had already left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay! My finals are starting tomorrow and I just didn't get to even turn on my laptop.  
> Thank you to all those leaving kudos and comments in the meantime, they had been such a motivation!


	6. Chapter 6

To say you had been afraid of returning to university to visit your afternoon classes was an understatement, but Tony had already frowned when you had come home during a time where you should have been sitting in classes. He made sure that Jarvis would get you to leave the house. It was Jarvis because Tony had cut too many classes himself during his time at MIT to tell you what to do, but you knew he only wanted you to do better than him, and deep inside you didn’t want to disappoint him.

Jarvis had coaxed you with gentle words to go regardless the fact that you just wanted to crawl into bed and never stand up again. Ever. Still, Jarvis worked his magic like he had all the years before, and before you really understood it yourself, you were on your way to university again.

It took a load off of your mind when you made it safely to the auditorium, head always lowered, arms crossed in front of your chest. You took a seat in the last row at the farthest end, completely ignoring that Wanda was sitting in the front, probably waiting for you.

Your phone buzzed, and yes, there was a message from Wanda. You ignored that one, too, and laid your head on the surface of the table, groaning silently.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, as you saw how Bucky entered the auditorium, spotted you, and actually fucking _moved to sit beside you._

Bucky sat down beside you, but he was silent, and you didn’t gather enough courage to look at him let alone address him. Instead you opted for finally following what the professor said and take notes.

“Ya don’t need to take notes.”

Bucky’s voice was barely above a whisper, and even though you heard him just right, you asked, “What?”

“I know ya only take notes because of Steve.”

“I’m not doing it for Rogers,” you hissed, trying to keep your voice low.

“It’s robotics, doll,” Bucky retorted, “ya don’t need to take _notes._ Doubt ya need to take notes in even one class.”

You clenched your teeth, struggling to keep the words in you _really_ wanted to spit out in that moment. But you were in no means in any position to snap at Bucky now. So you took in a deep breath, trying to relax the death grip on your pencil.

"I’m doing it for Wanda,” you said, “she is an absolute idiot when it comes to robotic. She really tries, but she sometimes just isn’t able to even pay attention. It is complicated, for her, not interesting and thus really boring. I’m helping her.”

Bucky simply nodded and fell silent again. This lasted for a solid two minutes.

“Ya know, it ain’t healthy to be obsessed.”

“The fuck? I am _not … obsessed,”_ you said, turning your head to finally look at Bucky. He regarded you with a neutral expression, his eyes glided over the hard lines on your face.

“Ya don’t even know Stevie.”

“And you know nothing about _me_.”

Bucky chuckled quietly and shook his head. “I know enough. Ya are one o’ these fangirls Steve has, followin’ his every step, but ya are actin’ more subtle, tryin’ to keep up a cover when you call him ‘Rogers’ and seem to be annoyed every time he asks for notes.”

“Because he only talks to me if he needs something,” you said, anger evident in your voice. “Otherwise I am invisible to him, and yes, it annoys me.”

Your pounding heart was the only thing you heard for a few seconds, it was loud in your ears, and Bucky simply looked at you, dead in the eye. You weren’t one to back down, even though you had found yourself in a complicated situation.

“Ya only like the idea of him, Y/N.”

Closing your eyes, you rubbed the heel of your hand against the lids. “I don’t know what you want to hear from me, Barnes.”

“That ya will stop this. The takin’ photos and _God knows_ what ya are doin’ with 'em.”

“Wha- I’m not doing _anything_ with them,” you whisper-shouted, and picked up your phone. “You know what? I’ll delete them, right here, right now.”

Bucky watched how you typed in a command in some field his phone definitely didn’t have, he made a mental note to ask about that later, and how you confirmed the alert to delete _more than two-thousand pictures!_

He gaped at you. “What the hell?”

You shrugged your shoulders, took your pencil again and continued to take notes. Bucky seemed partly satisfied for now, and you calmed down a bit; he didn’t have to know that you not only had pictures on your phone.

“There’s one more thing I want ya to do so ya know, I won’t spill your li'l secret.”

And there came the panic again.

“What do you want?” you asked, expecting everything; maybe he knew you were a member of the Stark family and wanted some weapons, or money, or -

“Want ya to become friends,” Bucky said, “with me,” he added, and that was good, because your brain just … stopped.

You stared at Bucky, to the point where he lifted one hand and wagged it in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N?”

Blinking, you shook your head, trying to find words. “You want to become _friends_ with me? Are you sure? Are you really, really sure?”

“Yes!”

Bucky sported that blinding smile again, and he nodded enthusiastically, and you were just confused. But becoming friends would be doable, you thought, not what you had been expecting, not what you would really want to become with _Bucky_ , but doable.

A relieved smile spread on your face, and you felt how the panic beginning to raise died down again.

“Well, I think we can become … friends,” you said. “But if you bother me, Barnes, I won’t be a pleasant friend.”

This didn’t faze Bucky in the slightest. He still grinned at you, looking really satisfied with himself. “We’re friends now, Y/N, ya can call me Bucky.”

“Haha, no,” you said, returning his huge grin, “I’m not calling you _Bucky_.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side.

“'Bucky’ is absolutely ridiculous, and I won’t call you that. I will call you James. And sometimes,” you paused, “sometimes I’ll call you Buckaroo.”

“Buckaroo? What kind of name’s this?”

“A nickname!”

“Bucky’s also a nickname!”

“If you think so.” You emphasized your words with a doubtful expression, trying hard not to laugh at Bucky’s own dumbfounded expression.

  


* * *

  


Wanda was  _pissed,_ and you couldn’t even resent her for it; you  _did_ not come to your classes in the morning, and  _then_ ignored her texts. It was no surprise that she practically jumped at you the moment she saw you, fingernails digging in to your shoulders, hissing at you like a fury.

“Y/N Maria Carbonell!”

Bucky, who was standing beside you, looked at her with raised eyebrows, then back at you.  Wanda didn’t even care to acknowledge him, and you were only glad that she remembered to address you with your mother’s birth name and not ‘Stark.’ You weren’t too keen on having the whole campus find out you belonged to a rich, weapon manufacturing family.

“Er, hi, Wanda.”

“Oh, no! You don’t ‘Hi, Wanda’ me here, and everything is alright again! You didn’t come to your morning classes, and when I texted you you didn’t answer, and then I see you here, sitting in the _same room_ without even thinking about telling me that you are okay? _That_ ,” her grip tightened with her last word, “is not okay.”

“I’m sorry, Wanda, it won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t happen again! I was _this_ close to calling your brother!”

You laughed. “Oh, you wouldn’t Wanda. You don’t like him.”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and she hissed her next words again, this time in Russian, “Fuck you, Y/N. I was worried about your ass, and I  _would_ have called your brother!”

You sighed, smiled, and pulled her in for a hug. “I’m sorry, really. I’ll text you the next time, promised,” you mumbled back in Russian, then switched back to English when you loosened your hold on her.

“Don’t you have classes now?” you asked her, and she nodded, smiling again.

“Yeah, I have. See you in front of the auditorium after your break?”

“Of course.”

You looked up at Bucky after Wanda left. He seemed a little bit shocked, maybe rather irritated, and cleared his throat.

“I thought ya don’t have a brother.”

“I never said that. I said I don’t have a little brother.” You grinned. “And I did say that you know nothing about me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, smiling a smile of his own. “Well, we’re becoming friends now, right? It gonna change soon that I ‘know nothing’ about you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all these beauties leaving kudos and writing comments, you are the best!
> 
> Special thanks to those wishing me luck for my finals - all three written exams are over, two oral exams will follow in May, then I will be finished! Your comments made me so happy, and I appreciate that so much! xoxo
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://secondxreality.tumblr.com)!


	7. Chapter 7

It was strange at first. Becoming friends with Barnes. Or James.

Just like him, you had to wait two hours before your next class would start, and Bucky decided that this was a  _fantastic_  opportunity to start your friendship with a nice little talk. The thing is, though, you weren’t good at talking. Sure, you could geek out about everything even remotely close to science at any time, but talking with other people about them or, even worse, about yourself, was a disaster. Especially if you knew this person only barely.

Tony may had a rough way of saying it, but he was right; you  _were_  socially incompetent. Really, it was a wonder you even had a couple of friends. Although you liked being alone, liked being all by yourself, you sometimes found yourself craving human contact. Just like your brother, you had developed a habit of touching people you were comfortable with being around. Their hand, their arm, their shoulder, their back; your highlights were giving hugs and petting hair.

However, it always was difficult for you to reach this kind of comfortableness. When meeting new people, you always wanted to do the right things, say the right things, to not appear weird - only to do the exact opposite. You stumbled upon your own words, said the first thing that came to your mind, or tended to give one-worded answers, making you appear uninterested and rude. Well, sometimes you did drift off – it happened.

And if you were nervous and did get some words out, it were usually more than “some words.” You rambled and babbled for hours on end, again seeming rude and self-centered.

Interacting with humans was hard.

As you sat down on one of the students’ lounges, Bucky sitting on the other side of the table, you couldn’t help but nervously play with your own fingers resting on your lap under the table, praying that -

“Ya nervous?“

Of course Bucky would notice. And he chuckled a bit. The fucker.

“No.” Your attempt at denying everything wasn’t the most effective considering you accidentally swallowed the half of your word while trying to say it. A word with exactly two letters.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, wanting to do nothing more than kick Bucky under the table for grinning even wider now. He looked so disgustingly beautiful again.

“I … err,” you began, Bucky waiting patiently,  _patiently_ , until you built a sentence together to continue. “I am not really good when it comes to talking. With other people. It’s – I’m – it’s … difficult for me, so … I’m sorry if you should get bored.”

Bucky still smiled, but a slight frown accompanied the smile. “You been conversing with me jus’ fine ‘fore.”

You blinked. “Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly plan becoming friends with you at the moment. The whole ‘let’s become friends’ changed  _everything_. Now I try really hard to not fuck it up, and I, like, always fuck it up. I just blurt out something without even thinking about it, I say the  _weirdest_  things, okay? Like, telling you how  _awful_  I am in making friends while I try to be your friend? Look, it is weird. I try to not be weird, and I am weird. And then I ramble and babble about things nobody cares about, repeat myself, or stray away from the original topic, and I don’t even know how I manage this myself. It is -”

“Okay,” Bucky interrupted you, and you snapped your mouth shut with an audible click, and at the same time you wanted to apologize.

But Bucky only laughed, eyes shining while  _he_  was the one apologizing. “Calm down, Y/N, ain’t any harm done. Is it okay if I interrupt you?”

“Gosh, yes, totally, like I said, I ramble, and I stray off, and it is really rude how I am always talking, but when I was younger I didn’t talk much and my mother always encouraged me to talk, to voice my thoughts and opinions, didn’t matter if other people liked them or not, but people usually didn’t like it when I talked and then nobody listened, and I thought ‘what’s the point in talking when nobody listens’, and I got quiet again, and the only persons listening to me talking were my mother, and Jarvis - he was kind of a, er, babysitter - and his wife, and my brother, but man, he is just as bad as me, he talks, and talks, and talks, but usually he can control it better than me when -”

You broke your ramble mid-sentence, chest puffing out as you drew in a deep breath. “James, you said you’d interrupt me. I was talking too much again.”

“Oh, I’d been sure ya stop yourself ‘fore ya die ‘cause of the lack of oxygen.”

Bucky looked really serious while saying this, but not a second later he was laughing, lips curling up into this beautiful smile of his. You really liked it. And you realized you liked talking to him, because he didn’t mind your rambling, he even listened to it.

Right now he waved his hand, gesturing for you to keep talking. “Please, go on,” he said, “tell me more ‘bout your brother.”

“Oh, okay.” You puffed out a short laugh. “So, my brother. Tony, his name is Tony. Actually, his name is Anthony, but he  _hates_  that name. Tony it is then, or Tones. His best friend usually calls him Tones. Anyways, Tony’s about three years older than me, but, honestly, you could think he is three years younger. Or more. He can be like a little kid, but in the next moment he is all his genius self again, building invention after invention. Tony is an idiot, and a smartass; I really love him. He’s always there for me.”

Tilting his head to the side, Bucky listened to your ongoing ramble about your brother. He liked how your whole body moved while talking. Your hands animatedly swished in front of your face, and your eyes shined throughout the whole (one-sided) conversation. But Bucky didn’t feel the need to talk; he was content watching you while the rest of the two hours you had ticked away. In this time you had talked about your brother, his best friend (Rhodey), Pietro and Wanda, whom you befriended because you sassed back as you heard Pietro commenting your ass in Russian, which had amused Wanda to no end. Then you went on about all kinds of scientific things Bucky didn’t really understand, but your eye shined even more when he asked you questions about it.

Yeah, Bucky liked hearing you talk, and maybe one day he would tell you how beautiful your voice were. And that you managed to not stumble upon even one word. And maybe that that cheesy cliché of people looking more beautiful when they talked about things they love totally applied to you.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was strange at first. Becoming friends with Bucky (James).

Then, it became good. Fantastic even. And when you came home that day, you smiled more than usually, kept Jarvis in a hug longer than usually, and Tony got suspicious. Of course.

“Did something happen in school?” he asked, eyes slightly narrowed. But honestly, you couldn’t blame him; he knew you had not wanted to go to S.H.I.E.L.D. University from the beginning, and you complained about the whole situation all the time just for the sake of it.

It didn’t stop Jarvis from sending a warning look into the direction of Tony, though, his British accent making his words appear more fierce as he said, “Master Tony, how about you find joy in the happiness of your sister?”

“Wha- I- of course I am happy when Y/N is happy, I’m just … confused. This morning you said, and I quote, ‘I’d rather die than go back to this place  _ever_  again.’ And now you look like you just got, like, one million dollars. Did you get one million dollars? But you have access to  _way_  more than one million dollars, so it is nothing special. What is it then?”

You grinned, widely, as you rocked back and forth on your heels, as if you could only barely contain your excitement.

You  _actually_  could only barely contain your excitement, and if Jarvis and Tony hadn’t had known for your whole life, maybe they could not have understood one of the few words that tumbled past your lips.

“I made friends with James!”

Tony looked as confused as before. “James? What James? Do you mean Rhodey? But he already is your friend! Has been for years! Did I miss something?”

Laughing, you shook your head. “No! I mean- you remember Barnes? I told you about Barnes.”

“Yes.” Tony stretched that simple word, saying it more like a question than anything else.

“His name is James. James Barnes.”

“Oh.”

That was it. Tony didn’t say anything else. You tilted your head to the side as you stared at him, he doing the same as he stared back. Until Jarvis lightly hit the back of his head with an oven mitt.

“What the fuck?”

“Sometimes, Master Tony, you are as ‘socially incompetent’ as you claim Y/N to be. And please watch your language,” Jarvis said, looking sternly at your brother, before he smiled at you.

“I am so proud of you, Miss Y/N, and I hope your friendship with Mr. Barnes will last for a long time.”

“Thank you, Jarvis!” you said happily, even lightly clapping your hands in your excitement.

Tony sighed, but drew you in a hug he knew you wanted right now all the same. Of course he was happy when you were happy, and this Barnes already meant a lot to you when you were  _this_  happy in befriending him even though of your insecurities when it came to socializing, but …

“When he makes you anything else than happy,” Tony murmured against your cheek, “I am going to personally kick his ass.”

You giggled, and only squeezed Tony tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got to post this chapter!
> 
> As always, thanks so much to every new kudo and comment!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://secondxreality.tumblr.com)!


	8. Chapter 8

“What happened?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

“Is he … sick?”

“Dunno. Maybe.”

“What if this isn’t the real one, but a clone?”

“I don’t think cloning people is legal.”

“Doesn’t matter. People do illegal things all the time.”

“I don’t do illegal things.”

“I know, Steve, you’re kinda America’s Golden Boy. Though, that doesn’t help us finding out which drug Bucky took to smile like that.”

“Bucky doesn’t consume drugs. Am I right, Buck?”

“Ain’t answering this insulting question.”

Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest as Steve directed a pointed told-you-so-look at him. He ignored it. “Then what are you looking at on your phone? The last ten minutes have been filled with dopey smiles and girlish giggles from you.”

His last words were drowned out by Bucky’s snort, but he didn’t stop typing, even as he lifted one hand to flip Sam off.

Sam frowned. “No, seriously, Bucky, what are you doing?”

“Texting.”

“With whom?”

“Thankfully not ya.”

Steve really had to stifle his laugh as he saw the dumbstruck expression on Sam’s face when Bucky answered his question without a second’s hesitation. Instead he tried his best to remain serious and let out a warning, “Bucky.”

Bucky finally looked up from his phone, heaving an exasperated sigh. “I’m texting with someone, okay? No need to think I was changed with a clone.”

“Do we know this person?” Sam asked.

“Maybe.”

“We totally know this person,” Sam concluded, nodding his head self-confidently.

Bucky glared at Sam, but before he could say something back (which surely would have prompted Steve to yell an exaggerated “Language!”),  a stack of textbooks was slammed on the table and you plopped down on the free spot right next to Bucky with a short greeting.

Sam and Steve gawked. Bucky smiled widely.

“So, James,” you began, “here are the books I found concerning the topic we talked about yesterday. Some of them are written for like, super super brains, but I’m sure you will understand them just fine. Otherwise, you can text me all the time.”

Bucky smiled even wider now, taking one of the books to flip through. “Oh, wow, thank you, Y/N. Where did ya get all these books?”

“My mother. She likes to get dozens of books of all scientific things for Tony and me. She kinda loves Stephen Hawking.

“You can have them as long as you want, just be careful with them, okay?”

“‘Course,” Bucky said, eyes sparkling as he turned another page before closing it, and looking back at you.

“Thanks so much.”

You shook your head. “Absolutely no problem. Um, I promised Pietro to join him and Wanda for lunch, so I gotta go now. See you later?”

“Sure, see ya later, Y/N.”

Picking up your backpack, you stood, but hesitated for a few seconds. Bucky looked up at you, head tilted to the side as he waited for you to move. With a barely there smile, you bend over to wrap your arms loosely around Bucky. Then, you skipped away.

While Sam stared at Bucky with an open mouth, Steve smiled like there was no tomorrow as Bucky turned back around.

“Look!” Sam exclaimed, pointing at Bucky. “There’s that dorky smile again!”

“Shut up, Wilson.”

“No way! Since when are you friends with Y/N?”

“None of ya business.”

“Oh, c'mon! Tell me, tell me everything!”

“Nope.”

“Bucky!”

Sam and Bucky continued their bantering, Sam begging Bucky to share some “hot information,” while he refused to say even the tiniest bit.

Steve ignored their bickering, just looked at Bucky with a small smile. Not until Sam asked him (demanded) for help did he let himself get involved into the conversation.

“If Bucky doesn’t want to tell he doesn’t need to, Sam. Stop annoying him.”

Sam pouted. “Man, Steve, aren’t you curious? Bucky made friends with Y/N Carbonell!  _Genius_  Y/N Carbonell! No one is friends with Genius Y/N Carbonell, except for the twins.”

“I wouldn’t wanna be friends with you if I heard ya talkin’ about me like that, neither, Sam.”

Sam pouted, but Steve had that fond smile curving his lips again, patientl waiting for Bucky to look at him and remain eye contact.

“You know, Buck, I’m happy you opened up to another person. To be honest, I didn’t think this would happen.

"You haven’t smiled like this in ages.”

“God, Stevie, stop this,” Bucky said, but he smiled again as well. “’S just easy to talk to Y/N. She’s … interesting.”

As if on cue, Sam wiggled his eyebrows in Bucky’s direction, saying, “Oh, I bet that she is ‘interesting.’”

Bucky rolled his eyes, while Steve punched Sam lightly against his shoulder.

“Eat your lunch, Sam.”

 

* * *

 

As always, Pietro set down a coffee in front of you, as well as something to eat.

“Thanks,” you said, grabbing the coffee first to take a sip. “I suppose this is not my promised cheeseburger?”

“Cheeseburgers are unhealthy, Y/N. It’s a salad.”

“A salad?” you repeated, pulling the box closer and pulling off its lid to inspect the food.

“It’s with avocado cream. And little tomatoes. And chicken strips.”

“Ok, wow, that sounds actually amazing.” You picked up your fork and dug in, sighing contently at the salad’s taste. “It is amazing!” you mumbled around a mouthful of food.

“Well, there is a reason why I bring you your food - I have amazing taste.”

“And you want me to do a crash course with you before every exam in every subject!”

Pietro nodded, chuckling. “It is really hard to sit still  _and_ pay attention during class.”

“You have just too much pent up energy, Pietro. Maybe you should do even more running. Or other sports, like … football.”

“Nah, I would like to have not all my limbs broken at the end of university. I’ll stick to running.” Pietro watched you munching away on your lunch, one leg bouncing up and down under the table.

“By the way,” you began, swallowing a small tomato, “where’s Wanda?”

“Didn’t she tell you about a meeting with the cheerleading team?”

“Oh, yes, I just forgot- wait, it is Friday already?”

Pietro grinned, having heard words like this out of your mouth not for the first time. “Yes, it’s Friday. Anything important today?”

“Um, yeah,” you said, hurriedly fishing your phone out of your pocket. “Gonna meet up with James around one p.m. for our project in engineering, and it is … thank god, it’s only half past twelve, I’m not too late.”

A smug grin blossomed on Pietro’s face as soon as he heard the name “James.” Your brows furrowed.

“What?”

“You’ve been doing a lot with 'James’ lately. Is there something you wanna tell me?”

You flushed. “There’s nothing to be told. We just … talked and became friends.”

“Sure.”

“There’s nothing more, Pietro!”

Chuckling, Pietro crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back into his seat. “Alright, alright, you just seem … happier.”

You hummed. “Things are good, at the moment, I guess.”

“Okay,” Pietro retorted, smiling. “That’s nice to hear.”

He still had the smug grin on his face, which made you huff, but you couldn’t help your own smile any longer.

Yes, you thought later on your way to meet Bucky. Yes, you were happier. Spending time with him the last few weeks had been good, really good. Sometimes you thought it was even too good, but you decided to simply enjoy it, who knew when the next bad thing decided to show up.

Bucky was already waiting for you when you arrived at the library, bend over a stack of notes while already scribbling on another one of surely a dozen sheet of papers.

“Hey, James.”

The same dazzling smile you still weren’t used to greeted you when Bucky lifted his head and recognized you. “Hey, Y/N, doll, I’ve so many ideas for our project, we are so goin’ to get the best grade ever!”

Bucky rambled on while you sat down next to him, backpack on your lap as you had paused to watch him go through his notes.

Someday, you  _had_  to let him visit the Stark workshop - after you got enough courage to tell him why you had access to the Stark workshop. However, back to the important things: the project, and-

“Did you ever try shawarma?”

Bucky halted, gaze back on you. “Did ya even listen to me?” he asked teasingly.

“'Course! I just- I- it’s Friday, we can hang out as long as we want, and shawarma is really good.

"There’s supposed to be meteorite shower at three in the night.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Really?”

God, he was such a space nerd -

“Yeah. Wanna watch it together?”

“Ya can bet your IQ on it, doll!”

\- you loved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys, it's been a while, but I am super pleased to say that I passed my finals this Wednesday! All that is left now is the graduation ceremony, then I am free to do whatever I want.
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos, comments, and your patience with me, as well as the encouraging words for my finals!


	9. Chapter 9

Bucky’s small apartment was minimalist, but classy. Sleek white furniture, a few black accents, little to no decoration save for a few photo frames.

Bucky watched you while you were examining everything, an honest to god _shy_ smile on his face.

“What?” you asked, laughing.

“Nothing!” Bucky answered, shaking his head. “Ya just look so … scrutinizing.”

“No! Your apartment is perfect. I like it. And I hadn’t much standing around, either, if I had to clean the shit all by myself.” You walked over to the picture frames, picking one up as you inspected it. “Is this your sister?”

“Yes.” Bucky moved to stand beside you. “Rebecca. Most annoying little brat you’ll ever meet. Probably the reason my parents were so keen on sending her to boarding school.”

“Really?”

He hummed. “Yeah, but she loves it there. Has a ton of friends, an’ she never fails to mention how much fun she is having, just to annoy my parents. Her snapchat story is full of party videos.

“We don’t see each other often, but I’m happy that she’s happy.”

You nodded, setting the frame back on its place to move on to the next picture.

“Oh my god, is this you?” you exclaimed, picking up the next frame to show it to Bucky. “Is this little James?”

Chuckling, Bucky nodded.

“Who’s the blond guy beside you? He’s like, tiny, a bit scrawny. Looks familiar. Though- wait, is this Steve?”

“That’d be Steve.”

You stared at the photo in disbelief, then at Bucky, then back at the photo in your hands. “No way! He is so small! How could this become the beef cake we know?”

“Well, we were six, I think, in this picture. But Steve didn’t change before he turned sixteen. He had this incredible growth spurt, went to the gym like crazy -”

“And suddenly he had biceps bigger than my future,” you completed.

Bucky grinned. “Exactly.”

You looked at the pictures for another couple of seconds, then you hold up the plastic bags containing your dinner.

“How about we warm these up, have dinner, and then go over your notes until the meteorite shower?”

“Sounds fantastic,” Bucky said, taking the plastic bag out of your hand and leading you into the kitchen. “You wanna have somethin’ to drink?”

“Water’s fine.”

“One water coming right up!”

Ever since you set foot into Bucky’s apartment, Bucky got cheerier and more playful, having a small smile forming on your lips. He set down the glass of water in front of you almost with a little too much sway in his movement, nearly spilling it.

“Oh, I forgot; you wanna have the WiFi password?”

Why did you only now make friends with Bucky?

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Y/N.”

No answer.

“Y/N,” Bucky whispered, gently nudging you with his shoulder, where your head rested.

After eating your shawarma, the both of you had spread all of Bucky’s notes on his coffee table, discussing his ideas and adding more. In the end you had picked a project (Bucky had and incredible amount of notes on bionic limbs, so you decided on that), added to the pile of notes, and then elected to pass the remaining time until the meteorite shower with shitty TV shows.

You had been really comfortable with your spot next to Bucky on his couch, head resting on his shoulder, silence only disturbed by the TV show and a snarky remark by you or Bucky. And suddenly it was as if your body had remembered the workshop binge you and Tony had ongoing the last two days; you grew tired and fell asleep.

Bucky patted your cheek lightly, which finally pulled you out of your slumber. You blinked up at him and sat up groggily, the imprint of Bucky’s wrinkled shirt on your skin.

“Oh my god, what time is it?” you slurred, fingers of one hand carding through your hair.

“Half past two,” Bucky answered, “but I think it already started.”

“Oh, shit,” you said, moving to stand hurriedly.

“Calm down, Y/N,” he laughed lightly, “the best’s yet to come. How about we get our shoes and then go outside?”

“Sounds good,” you said, hoping Bucky couldn’t see your slight blush in the light of the TV. If he did, he didn’t say anything.

In no time you had put on your shoes, left the apartment and Bucky led you to a meadow directly next to the apartment complex with a view into the sky undisturbed by trees or high buildings.

“Man, I totally didn’t see this perfect place for star gazing when we arrived here,” you said, unceremoniously dropping to the ground and laying back to look up into the sky.

Bucky chuckled, laying down next to you, hands resting on his stomach.

“I sometimes c'mere to look at the stars,” he said, “helps me calm down before a football game. Or after.”

You hummed, gaze jumping from one spot to the other. “To be honest, I didn’t think of you as the type who would spend hours looking into the sky.”

“It’s not somethin’ I brag about. I guess most people would look at me like crazy if they knew ‘bout it.”

“They just don’t know what a nerd you are.”

“Should I be offended at that?” Bucky laughed, and you could imagine they way his eyes would crinkle in the corners as he smiled.

“No! It’s a totally good way of being nerdy,” you said. “You know, it … it’s -”

God, you couldn’t tell him that it was downright adorable, and every time he got excited about something he looked like a literal puppy and you would just like to pat his head and give him everything he wants because he was such a cutie - ok, yeah, no, you really couldn’t tell him that.

“Everyone is nerdy about something, okay?” you continued, scrambling for an explanation without telling him the things you didn’t want to tell (because he would totally think you were out of your mind). “I am nerdy, too, obviously, but it’s good and I adhere to it.”

This was getting embarrassing, so you took your chance as you saw your first meteorite, pointed up into the sky and said, “Look, there!”

Bucky sighed contently. “I love this,” he said, grinning to himself. “Maybe I am a bit nerdy.”

“A bit? Man, you underestimate yourself. And this comes fron the person who built their own miniature R2D2 after watching Star Wars for the first time.”

“You built yer own R2D2?” Bucky asked, sitting up to look at you, eyes wide.

You grinned. “Of course.”

“Does he … function? As in moving and speaking?”

“Yes.” If you could call the beeping noises R2D2 made “speaking.” But it was his way of communicating, just like Tony’s first roboter, DUM-E, and they were all part of your family. You and Tony were able to understand them just fine.

“Wow,” Bucky said, intrigued as he lowered himself back on the ground. “You have to show me some day.”

“Can be organized,” you said. “Nerd.”

Bucky only laughed in response, bumping his leg against yours in fake anger.

“Ya know, when I was little I wanted to be an astronaut.”

“Why am I not surprised?” you said, laughing softly. “You still have that dream?”

“Nah,” Bucky said, “’m content with watching from the Earth. Kinda safer for now, I guess. An’ maybe we will see the day were trips to the moon are as normal as going to the movies.”

“Oh, if they don’t have the technology ready by me reaching thirty, I am going to take matters into my own hands.”

Bucky chuckled, and as you turned your head to look at him, his mouth had curled up in a slight smile, the sky mirroring itself in his eyes.

“If you don’t figure this out then no one will,” he said, “an’ if you’re brother’s only as half a genius as you, then I’ve no doubts.”

“You are such a suck-up, James. Thanks though.”

He curled his fingers briefly around your hand, squeezing gently as he smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Your breath hitched slightly (and hopefully not noticeable) when Bucky drew his hand back, your fingers twitching as if they wanted to chase his contact. Instead you curled them into a loose fist, grinning up into the sky full of stars like an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, my lovelies, I am finally here with a new chapter!
> 
> There are not enough words to express my gratitude to all those wishing me luck for my finals (I think I already mentioned it, but I passed them!!), for a few weeks now, I am officially finished.
> 
> I don't know how many of you know a bit about the German education system, but I decided to start my undergraduate studies in Molecular Biology and Bioengineering, and I am so excited even though I won't know until August if I get accepted, haha.
> 
> Some of you told me about their own graduations, and I hope all went well for you, too!
> 
> Much, much love!


	10. Chapter 10

Bucky woke to the sight of your back to him. Your side raised and fell gently with your slow breaths. A soft sigh sounded in the silent before you rolled onto your back, hands next to you making a grabbing motion, while your lips smacked against each other quietly in your sleep.

A smile formed on Bucky’s face at that, only to cringe when a loud knock interrupted his peace. Thankfully, you weren’t disturbed at all, and Bucky was careful to be extra quiet as he got up and trudged to his apartment door.

Through the peephole, he spotted Sam on the other side of the door.

“What is he doin’ here?” muttered Bucky to himself, opening the door for his unexpected guest.

Sam greeted him with a huge grin, totally unfazed by the murder-y stare he recieved from Bucky.

“Hey, Buck!”

Bucky’s facial expression didn’t brighten. “Sam. It is -” he didn’t know how much time it was, but it definitely was “- not ‘Suprise Visit by Sam’-time.”

“Relax, Bucky, I got you breakfast!” Sam held up a paper bag, which really exuded the scent of fresh croissants. Bucky stared at it.

“Sam, what the fuck are you up to?”

“Nothing!” he sing-songed, which was the equivalent to “something  _is_  up”, and attempted to squeeze by Bucky inside the apartment, who was having none of it.

“Sam.”

“Yes?”

“I did mention that Y/N would be over this weekend?”

As always, Sam was a looser of an actor, and he nearly poked his eye out as he slapped his left hand holding his car keys to his forehead.

“Oh, no! I forgot!” he exclaimed, shaking his head about his own 'forgetfulness.’ “Well, what’s a man gonna do? Thankfully, I have enough for three people!”

Oh, wow. What a  _coincidence_.

With a grunt, Bucky finally granted Sam access to his apartment, who directly skampered off into the direction of the kitchen, tossed the bag of croissants onto the table, and started to pull out plates.

“Please, be quiet,” Bucky said, “Y/N’s still sleepin’.”

“Oh, of course. I am sure you guys had  _fun_  last night.”

Bucky’s stare had intensified compared to the one he shot at the bag of croissants when Sam had showed them to him.

“Sam, what the fuck?”

Oh, how often these words were directed at this idiot. Sam ignored them, winked at Bucky, and walked to the fridge, pulling more items out.

“Don’t you … don’t you have Steve to bother?”

“Bucky, we have nine in the morning. Steve and I had our run three hours and breakfast two hours ago.”

“Ah, right. I kinda forgot you two were insane.”

Sam still smiled and pushed him into the direction of the coffee maker. “Here, you can stop staying around and do something useful, too.”

Bucky whispered a few curses under his breath, started to make coffee all the same, though. He continued to stare at Sam afterwards. Unfortunately, Sam got used to this ages ago, and it stopped having effects of him at all. Bucky could try, though.

“How does Y/N like her coffee?” Sam asked him, stopping his rustling through Bucky’s kitchen when the coffee maker finished to pour two cups of the black liquid. “Does she add a ton of milk and sugar like Steve?”

“Only a few drops of milk,” Bucky answered. “Sometimes a bit cinnamon.”

Sam nodded, prepared your cup and set it in front of him. “Alright, bring your lady some coffee.”

Scowling, Bucky stood, and picked up the coffee. “She isn’t  _my_  lady,” he muttered. Sam heard it anyways and nodded sarcastically.

You were already awake when you heard Bucky coming back to his room, and you smiled brightly at him when you spotted the cup of coffee in his hand.

“Morning, James!”

“Mornin’, doll,” Bucky answered, handing you the coffee.

“Thank you!” you said cheerfully, making him chuckle.

“You seem pretty happy for havin’ just woken up.”

You softly blew on your coffee and took a sip before answering Bucky. “I slept great!” You hummed at the taste of the coffee. “Did you add cinnamon?”

“Yeah. Remembered our conversation about coffee.”

“You’re the best,” you said, immediately taking another sip of your favourite liquid.

Bucky smiled and stood again. “Hey, I just gotta go use the bathroom, then you can go while I prepare breakfast?”

You nodded. “Sure. Do you need some help?”

“Nah, I guess I’ll be able to use the bathroom on my own.”

Heat rushed to your face at Bucky’s indication and the sly smirk on his face. Laughing, you wagged a hand in his direction.

“I meant breakfast!”

“I know, doll. I don’t need help, though, don’t worry.”

Unless you knew how to boot out Sam. He didn’t add this, though, just grabbed his phone from the bedside table and vanished into the bathroom.

When he came back into the kitchen, there was no Sam anymore. Instead, the table was set, everything for breakfast had been prepared, and only two croissants were missing out of the bag, still leaving more than enough for two other people.

Bucky’s phone buzzed with a message.

> Hope you two enjoy your breakfast. You can thank me later! ;)

Bucky scoffed, shook his head, and sat down on the table. He sighed. Well, the croissants did look fantastic. If Sam hadn’t have shown up, all Bucky could have served with were an old piece of bread and the barely there content of his fridge.

Not even ten minutes passed until you joined Bucky on the breakfast table, eyes lighting up when you spotted the croissants.

“Oh, wow! Did you go out to extra bring some quacksons?”

Bucky nearly grimaced when you asked if  _he_  went out, but then he noticed how you pronounced croissant.

“Quackson?” he repeated, and you chuckled nervously.

“Haha, this, yeah, well, you remember when you saw me at the kindergarden, and you asked me if I was dropping off a sibling?

"It’s not really a sibling, more like a little boy I babysit from time to time.”

“Ah, okay,” Bucky said.

“I know I don’t really seem like the type of babysitting young kids, normally I think they are really annoying, and to be honest, I didn’t tell anyone before, Wanda and Pietro would  _never_  believe me, and -”

“Y/N, doll, as much as I love to hear ya speaking; yer rambling again.”

“Whoops,” you laughed. “Quacksons, right? So, Peter, that’s how the little boy is called, really likes croissants, and he couldn’t properly pronounce the word when he was younger. Croissants sounded more like quacksons, and even though he now can pronounce it the right way, we still say quackson. It’s like an inside joke.”

Bucky laughed with you. It had taken some time for you to be so open around him, smiling and laughing without a care. It was in moments like this that he wondered how he’d been able to get so close to you. Not that he complained, no; he was grateful for that.

And just as he opened his mouth to say exactly this in a spontaneous impulse of courage, your phone began to ring, letting you both flinch.

“Sorry, it’s my brother,” you said, hurrying to accept the call.

Bucky only nodded, his reassuring smile for you coming a bit harder than he would have thought.

You answered your phone with a cheery “Whaddup, bro, I hope this isn’t a call to stalk me”, still smiling, but that fell quickly. Bucky couldn’t make out what your brother was talking about. The call wasn’t even long, maybe a minute or two, but you suddenly looked very ill.

“Yes, I understand. See you soon,” you said before ending the call.

Bucky looked at you questioningly. You drew in a deep breath.

“I, er, something happened,” you said. “I’m sorry, I have to cut this short.” Even while you were speaking, you already stood, looking really uncomfortable.

“No, no, ain’t a problem,” Bucky said, standing as well to follow you while you gathered your stuff.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized again and again, another one last time as you slipped on your shoes and opened Bucky’s apartment door. “It’s been really wonderful, and I am sorry, I just cannot talk about it, yet.”

“Y/N,” Bucky said, pulling you in a hug. “I said it ain’t a problem, just … take care, okay? Whatever it is.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” You squeezed him, tightly, and nearly run out of the room, shutting the door behind you audibly.

Bucky just stared at it helplessly, the promise of a wonderful morning shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I just realized it's been like two months. Time flew by without me realizing it.
> 
> Unfortunately, I didn't get accepted on my preferred University, but I'll be going to my second choice together with a friend! I am really excited!
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this update; we're coming to some real shit in the following!


	11. Chapter 11

You hadn’t even pulled out your keys when the door was opened for you. Of course, it was none other than Jarvis having waited for you, and he greeted you with a slight bow, concern etched into his features.

“Where’s Tony?” you asked, impatiently shrugging out of your jacket and kicking off your shoes. This time Jarvis didn’t comment on how they weren’t neatly stacked next to the other pairs, didn’t even lifted his right eyebrow as he always did when you threw your backpack into the next available spot. He just took your hand, squeezed it to make clear he was there for you, sensing - as the fantastic parental figure he always had been - that you were too thrown off even for a hug.

“Sir is in his personal laboratory,” Jarvis answered, “he is waiting for your arrival.”

You nodded, shortly touching Jarvis’s lower arm as a quick thank you, before you hurried down the stairs and to Tony’s lab.

DUM-E, Tony’s first robot project at MIT, greeted you with a series of distressed beeps, nudging at your hand with his claw, then turning to his creator. You absently patted him, trying to calm him down, but DUM-E never lived up to his name when it came to sensing yours or Tony’s mood. He was like a puppy, clumsy and inexperienced when it came to most things, but he made it up with enthusiasm and never ending spirit of always wanting to do his best for his favorite humans.

As much as you loved and appreciated him for it, though, you really weren’t able to let his comfort through right now.

“Please, tell me this is a sick joke of yours.”

The look on Tony’s face when he turned to you told you that it was everything but. A desperate sound left your lips, and you moved over to Tony and the holograms he already had pulled up.

You weren’t the CEO of Stark Industries and you had never planned on becoming it. You didn’t understand much of business, and you never were and you never would be interested in it. The perks of the world not knowing you were a Stark came with nobody expecting anything of you. Your mother had done anything to be able to raise you without any paparazzi documenting every step you would take, so you learned to introduce yourself as a Carbonell, not a Stark, and while the world knew the famous Tony Stark had a sister, they never had gotten a name or a picture, and soon had lost interest in something they couldn’t present the world like a new toy.

However, back to the point: you didn’t even want to understand half of the shit Tony was showing you, but Tony knew you would understand what he wanted you to understand.

He even marked the illegal transitions of weapons red.

“I cannot believe it,” you whispered, stepping closer. “And you’re sure it is …?”

Tony nodded, manipulating the hologram with a few flicks of his wrist and wagging fingers. “The A.I. I had begun to program did an amazing job at its first quest. Really, it is a mere coincidence I decided for it to check SI’s latest transactions. It was all found on his computer.”

You looked at your brother, and even though he had the carefully blank media mask on, you knew deep down he was hurting at this betrayal. Maybe, no, surely even more than you, but he refused to let it show.

“What are we gonna do now?”

Tony sighed heavily, rubbed a hand across his forehead. You stepped closer and he immediately laid his arm around your shoulders, seeking contact.

“Well, sue him, of course. I am not going to sit by while this man sells _my_ weapons to terrorists. I don’t need … I don’t need that on my conscience.”

His lower lip was wobbling, even though Tony tried his best to cease the trembling.

“You remember those reports of terrorists kidnapping children, and killing their parents, and who knows what else they do?” Tony’s voice broke at the end. “I-It’s all my fault.”

The corners of your lips turned down fully at this. You hated seeing your brother like this. His voice never broke. He never looked desperate or lost. He never had tears gathering in his eyes.

You never had been your godfather’s favorite, and the feeling was mutual, but there never had been a moment before where you hated Obadiah Stane more than now.

“No,” you said, voice stern. “Don’t you start this shit. If it is someone’s fault, it is his.”

Tony finally turned to you, blurring gaze trained on you. This was more than Tony feeling guilty over the deaths caused by his weapons. It was the betrayal of his godfather, someone he trusted, regardless of your dislike of him; after all, Obie had been the only father figure besides Jarvis who told Tony he was proud of him and his work.

The relationship between you and Obie always was difficult. Just like your father, he had more interest in Tony, and he rarely bothered to hide the fact. After your parents’ death, he made sure that Tony got CEO and back to work as quickly as he could, offering him every help he might need.

Now, it was no wonder why he’d been so eager on getting Tony back on track as soon as possible.

You got angry, but before you had time to dwell on it, Tony sniffed and aggressively wiped over his closed lids with his finger tips.

“W-We need to contact our lawyers. We need to do a press conference. We need to collect more proof. Restrict his access to our data bank and stores. Freeze his whole Stark Industries account, we -”

“Tony.”

His words got stuck in his throat, more tears had gathered in his eyes. It made you even more angry. Looking grimly, you let Tony sag into your side, wrapping your arms around him to let him hide. Barely there sobs rattled his body.

Tony never cried.

You hated it.

A few angry tears rolled down your own face.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Peter had a huge grin on his face, sitting next to you in his car seat as the front-seat passenger.

Once in a while, you would take Peter with you instead of watching him at May’s, and today was ‘once in a while.’ The little peanut nearly ran into the door in excitement when you told him he would come with you. The prospect of finally seeing Tony again, had put him into a great mood - and you hadn’t have the heart to tell him, yet, that he only would see Tony maybe five minutes tops.

As Peter had been hurriedly packing his little backpack (he came three times out of his room, exclaiming loudly that you could go now, only to be asked by you or May if he had thought of his little toothbrush, a fresh pair of socks, or his water bottle he always brought to kindergarten,) May and Ben had sat down with you in the kitchen and asked how you and Tony were doing.

You wanted to say that you were fine, and Tony as well, but they had seen the news report and knew what happened. May also happened to know that Tony had always trusted and valued Obie. So, she had given you a stern look, and you had sighed, words now falling out of your mouth like a waterfall.

The stress Tony was in caused by the search for more proof of Obadiah’s betrayal and then the following trial, and in turn how it stressed you out to see your brother in so much work, he was practically drowning. Not that he couldn’t handle a full schedule, it was always made sure of he someday knew how to run a business and that included packed days. No, it was more the reason of his now packed schedule why he didn’t fare well.

It pained you, that there didn’t seem anything you could do.

Though, Ben and May were quick to reassure you, that your sheer presence and mental support were an important thing to keep Tony going.

You sure hoped they were right, as you had nothing else to offer.

When you and Peter left, they both hugged you tight, wishing you and Tony strength.

“We’re always here for you,” Ben had said, and you really had felt a tiny bit better after that.

And with Peter around, one was just _bound_ to feel better! How could you not? That little ray of sunshine made you instantly feel better, and you hoped so much he had the same effect on Tony.

Additionally, Peter was just so excited to see Tony. It would break his heart if he didn’t get to see him even for a few minutes.

Peter was already out the car and up the stairs to the front door before you had exited the car yourself and got out his backpack. Jarvis must have seen you two arriving because only a few seconds later the door was opened and Peter hugged the butler’s leg in greeting.

“Good afternoon to you, too, young Mr. Parker,” Jarvis, polite as ever, greeted back, nodding to you with a calm “Miss Y/N” when you entered the building as well.

“Hey, Jarvis,” you said, helping Peter out of his shoes and jacket. “You know where Tony is? The peanut wants to see him.”

Peter nodded frantically as he watched Jarvis put away his clothes.

“Sir is currently in a meeting with a lawyer, I am afraid.”

You sighed, one hand gliding over Peter’s hair, whose owner was pouting. “I’m sorry, peanut, but I am sure we can at least eat dinner with him in a few hours.”

Jarvis nodded. “I will arrange everything to your liking, Miss Y/N.”

Smiling, you thanked Jarvis.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“ _Since the reveal of illegal weapon transactions of Stark Industries, former interim CEO Obadiah Stane is to appear in court. Accused by the current CEO Tony Stark, Stane is believed to be working with a terrorist organization called the Ten Rings._

_Read more about this and see exclusive pictures on page 16.”_

Before Bucky had been able to open the magazine to page sixteen, Steve had ripped it out of his hands, tossing it to Sam. Bucky frowned at his friend.

“Why?”

“You really don’t want to read that,” Sam said, looking at him intently.

“Again: why?”

Sam shifted his gaze to Steve, whose corner of the mouth turned down. “I don’t think you’d like it.”

“It doesn’t matter if I like it. ‘Sides, it’s an article about someone selling the best weapons to date to some frickin’ terrorist organization, nobody likes it.”

To Bucky’s benefit, Sam was still staring at Steve, realizing too late that Bucky was going for the magazine. Sam jumped out of his seat as soon as Bucky had snatched the paper, racing after him, but Bucky already bounced into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Hurriedly, he opened the magazine on page sixteen.

“ _The Ten Rings is a terrorists organization hellbent on destroying world peace by any means necessary. Just a few days ago, they are said to have attacked the city Gulmira in Afghanistan, killing, one again, a few dozen of innocent people.”_

Both Steve and Sam were hammering on the door. “Buck, come on!”

Bucky skipped the double page about the Ten Rings to get to those “exclusive pictures.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, what’s so special about -” He froze when he saw you on several of those pictures.

It was silent for a few seconds.

“You know, it is just a stupid gossip magazine. The majority in these things is made up.”

Bucky didn’t really heard Sam’s voice. He only held the magazine closer to his face as he read the small font under one of the pictures.

“ _An unknown woman comforting a visible shaken Tony Stark. Has the so-called Merchant of Death a new love interest?”_

Sam nearly fell as Bucky yanked open the door.

“You were right,” Bucky said, thrusting the paper into his hands, “I didn’t wanna see this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I moved to my new home this Monday and I really wanted to get this part out before University starts fully.  
> I'm sorry for another cliffhanger, ah! I just began to wrote away on this chapter, and I didn't get to the part I originally wanted to include, haha.


	12. Chapter 12

You furrowed your brows at the third group of people looking you up and down, whispering to themselves like some kind of silly school girls. That one guy you once talked to in robotics had jealousy written all over his face, the girl standing beside him looked at you in disgust.

Mentally shrugging your shoulders, you did what Tony did with people judging him; you ignored them. You continued your way over to Bucky, smiled when you made eye contact with him. He smiled back; although, it seemed forced. But before you even made it halfway to his table, Pietro popped out of nowhere, grabbed your arm and dragged you right back out of the cafeteria into a secluded corner on the hallway.

“What is wrong with you?” you exclaimed, looking at Pietro a bit shocked, who himself looked … grim.

“Y/N, sweetie.” Okay, that was Wanda popping right out of nowhere. She looked apologetic, one of those gossip magazines in her hands.

“Wanda, what the hell is going on with you two?”

“Y/N, sweetie,” Wanda repeated, “we know you’ve been a bit … jazzed -”

“Jazzed?”

“Jazzed,” she emphasized, “due to the whole going to court thing, and the betrayal of Tony’s godfather, but there is something you should see.”

“What … what is it?”

Wanda looked to her brother, who nodded encouragingly, before she hold up the magazine, opened up on a spread showing off a huge picture of you and Tony hugging, the words “Has the so-called Merchant of Death a new love interest?”

_Has the so-called Merchant of Death a new love interest?_ What the hell?

“Fuck my life,” you muttered, grabbing the magazine to inspect the picture. You remembered the day, of course you did. First day of court. Tony had a little break-down during a break and as the good sister you were, you comforted him. Neither one of you had any idea that some goddamn paparazzi had taken pictures of you.

“Ugh, that’s gross,” you said. “New love interest? Don’t they know – oh, right, they don’t know.”

You laughed dryly, Pietro shot you a not exactly amused look.

“Well, this is … unfortunate, but who cares? It’s a gossip magazine! They make up stories all the time just to sell their boring shit! You guys know that it isn’t true; that’s all that matters.”

Wanda brought up a hand, caressing your upper arm. “That’s really flattering, we’re honored, truly. But, Y/N, everybody, _every person at this University,_ has seen this.”

“That’s why everybody’s been staring at me,” you realized. “That one guy even looked jealous. Does he has a crush on Tony?”

“котенок,” Pietro said, making you look at him. “That’s not the point, yes? You are believed to be hooking up with Tony, Tony _Stark_. What are they going to think?”

“I don’t care what they think!” you said, shaking your head. “They and their opinions suck anyway.”

“Alright, let me say it differently. What is Barnes going to think?”

You faltered.

“You haven’t told him yet, no? He may be also thinking you’re hooking up with Tony.”

Swallowing the lump that suddenly formed in your throat, you looked to the ground. “I kinda told him. I mean, I did say I had a brother named Tony.”

“Tony isn’t an uncommon name, sweetie,” Wanda said, voice low.

“Fuck!” you swore, crumbling the magazine with your hands in anger. “I was this close to telling him so many times before, okay? But then, I-I just couldn’t. I really like him and I don’t want him- I don’t wanna … what if- what if he thinks that it is too much? That I am too much? What if he’s grossed out because my brother is literally called the motherfucking ‘Merchant of Death?’ My family’s been manufacturing weapons for _years._ ”

You breath was shaking, Wanda and Pietro were looking at you pitifully. “I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, “everything’s so _messed up_ , and I …” The face of every single person staring at you today popped up in your head. “I-I gotta go. I’m sorry, can’t be in this goddamn place any longer.”

W anda had a desperate expression on her face, calling after you when you pushed past her and her brother. “ I-I’ll call you later, guys!” you hurriedly said over your shoulder, pushing open the doors to the cafeteria. Again, all eyes were on you.

You clenched your teeth, and … you still had that stupid magazine in your hand.  Angrily, you crumbled it even more, head low and shoulders hunching as you walked through the room to get out of the University as soon as possible.

Fortunately, you were in no time out of the building and the ground.

Unfortunately, you were welcomed by a dozen paparazzi and at least  twice as much flashlights.

  


* * *

  


“You okay?”

It was kind of hard for Bucky to tear his eyes from you form as you were dragged away by Pietro, the look on your face going from surprised to confused. He knew his smile  _must_ have looked forced, and yes, he felt guilty.

Anyways, Sam’s voice sounded awfully concerned, entirely different to their usual banter.  So Bucky finally looked at him, gnawing his lower lip.

“’Course,” he answered, digging his fork back into his food a little bit too forcefully. Sam looked at him skeptically.

“You don’t look like it.”

Bucky sighed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “It’s stupid, okay? Y/N … we are just friends. But I am so  _jealous.”_

“That’s not stupid,” Steve said, who sat next to Sam.

“Yeah, it is,” Bucky said, waving his hands to emphasize. “We are _just friends._ And … it is _her_ life. I don’t own her or somethin’. But I’m kinda … angry.”

“Maybe you should talk to her,” Steve suggested.

Bucky stared at him. “Are ya out of your fucking mind? What should I say? ‘Oh, hey, Y/N, I read in a  _magazine,_ that you’re in a relationship with Tony  _frickin’_ Stark and I am  _not_ okay with it, ‘cause it is totally  _my_ business.’”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

“Bucky,” Sam started, “you still forget that it is all in a gossip magazine.”

“Come on, Sam. I think she would have told me if she knew Tony Stark.”

“Okay, then, maybe you should really talk to her. About your feelings and stuff.”

Bucky stared at Sam. “ Are  _you_ out of your mind?”

“Okay, okay,” Sam assured Bucky, “then not about your feelings, but then the … the situation. You’re angry, Bucky, at Y/N, and to be honest, she didn’t do anything wrong. So hear her out before you stay angry at her.”

Steve looked at something behind Bucky’s back and repeatedly hit Sam’s shoulder.  Sam’s eyes widened.

“There she goes,” he said, practically lunging over the table to push Bucky out of his seat. “Go after her, and _talk!”_

“Yes, yes!” Bucky said, standing to rush after you.

Though, he sure as hell didn’t expect the huge crowd standing at the entrance to the ground of the University as he caught up to you. Thousand cameras were flashing.

“Y/N!”

At his call, you turned around, eyes wide with panic. The look on your face made Bucky feel terrible about his anger.

“James!”

You sounded helpless. Bucky felt even more terrible.

So, he motioned for you to come with him, away from those people, who were shouting at you to turn back around and to answer their questions, accompanied by the sound of cameras snapping picture after picture.

Bucky lead you back to a building on the University ground. The door slammed shut behind you two, and you burried your hands in your hair as you looked at Bucky.

“James,” you whispered, “I’m sorry. They surely got a picture of you.”

Bucky sighed, guilt flaring up once again. “It’s okay, doll, it’s okay.”

You sniffed, looking to the side. “I guess you saw the, uh, the article as well?”

“I – yeah.”

Short pause.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

  


* * *

  


Seeing Bucky was like the first ray of sunshine on a rainy day. You were close to crying tears of joy at seeing his beautiful face, all that was missing was that beaming smile of his and everything would be fine already.

Though, he wasn’t smiling, and as he asked you why you didn’t tell him, he sounded angry and sad at the same time.

“I ...”

You could tell him everything. That Tony was your brother, and yes, you loved him, but being his girlfriend was just _gross,_ oh my god. But then he would know you were a Stark. He would know that your family was making money with weapons. He would know that your family had a shit ton of money, and even though you believed, you _wanted_ to believe that Bucky wasn’t the kind of person to exploit you, because he wasn’t like those “friends” you knew your brother once had.

To put it simply, you were afraid. You were afraid that he didn’t want to have anything to do with a Stark. You may be all geniuses, and the military was _grateful_ for your father’s and Tony’s work, but these weapons had also been used by terrorists, Howard didn’t had the best reputation concerning literally everything else than his brain, ensuring that the majority of the headlines containing the word “Stark” were negative.

But you had to put it right that you definitely weren’t dating your _brother._ This you could. This you had to do, because Bucky couldn’t walk around thinking you weren’t -

You didn’t know how long you were staring at Bucky now, thinking about what to say. And even though he didn’t look exactly happy at the moment, he still had those beautiful blue eyes, brown hair that was as soft as it looked (you once had took the chance ruffling his hair in a playful manner without it seeming weird and it was _perfect_ ), and you wished you could just hug him right now, hiding in his embrace from everything going on right now.

Yes, you couldn’t let him walk around thinking you were off the market.

“Alright,” you started, “first of all, I am not dating Tony Stark.”

“You’re not?” Bucky looked hopeful. You _hoped_ he looked hopeful.

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, and thank god a smile pulled on Bucky’s lips, too.

“Then what about this magazine?”

“It’s a gossip magazine! They make up these things all the time!”

Bucky chuckled. It was like music in your ears. “Sam said the same.”

You smiled, the stress of the trial still going on, the paparazzi waiting outside, and the whole University judging you because you were said to be dating Tony pushed to the back of your mind.

“There … there is more,” you said carefully, “but I don’t think I am quite ready yet to tell you.”

Bucky smiled. “It’s all right, doll. No pressure.”

Stepping closer to him, you patted his arm shyly before giving in to the urge to throw your arms around him.

“Thank you,” you whispered, over and over again.

Bucky tightened his hold on you, relishing in the moment of feeling you against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!
> 
> I am so sorry that this update took so long! University takes a hefty bit of my time, and I wanted to get one of my two requests done before I continue writing for obsession. Hope you guys enjoy!


	13. Chapter 13

Tony looked better. Much better. The bags under his eyes were slowly fading, and the color was returning to his face. He smiled at Peter sitting in his lap, reading him some science book for kids.

He looked relaxed, and you were incredibly happy to see him like this after the trial had finally ended and Stane got his sentence.

Rhodey was sitting beside you, also watching Tony and the peanut, smiling himself.

"I'm glad this all ended well. And that Tony had a couple hours of sleep; he looked like the walking dead."

You hummed, finger tips tapping against the surface of the table in a fast rhythm. Rhodey watched you, brows drawing together when he saw you gnawing at your lower lip.

"You alright?"

"'Course it is. Trial has ended, Tony looks like a human being again. Oh, the project James and I did together got us an A."

Rhodey chuckled. "You were part of it, I didn't expect anything else."

You smiled, but he knew you weren't fully with it. "Something's bugging you, though, isn't it? Is it still the rumors about you dating Tony? The paparazzi?"

"No," you said, grimacing, "not really, I mean, the paparazzi were a pain in the ass, the rumors no less, but the paparazzi didn't come to the university again after Director Fury scared them all off, and the people talking isn't something I care too much about."

Rhodey was still watching you. You swear he was born with the skill to read a Stark like an open book. "But something about all this happening does bother you, right?"

You didn't answer right away, but Rhodey waited patiently. He was too good for Tony and you.

Sighing, you leaned back in your seat, picking the finger tapping up again. "I guess it's just, I don't know, I kinda don't wanna hide the fact anymore I'm a Stark? I never really had a problem with it, really; nobody expected anything from me, I didn't have to deal with the media and prejudices, but ... yeah, I mean I think it was inevitable that some day I'd be seen together with Tony and that the media picks up on it, but I don't want to hide this anymore, especially from the people I care about."

"You could always tell James, no need to shout it from the rooftops."

"Yeah, I know, and I would definitely tell him and the others before announcing it to the world, but the fact I have to hide my identity from _everyone_ bothers me. Technically, it isn't _lying_ , I think, but I hide a big part of myself. I am _proud_ to be Tony's sister, and I wanna support him in changing Stark Industries into something better. And yes, I would love to take some of the credit, also for the bit of work I did for the company until now, but I feel like leaving Tony alone especially in moments like the trial, just because nobody can know that I am related to him. I hate that."

You fiddled with your fingers, watching them as you waited for Rhodey's reaction.

"I guess I understand," Rhodey said, "and I wanna support your decision, but talk to Tony about it, alright?"

"Of course, I -"

Both you and Rhodey jumped as Peter's voice rang throughout the room, shouting your name with as much enthusiasm as always.

Tony smiled when you looked up, adjusting his hold on Peter to keep the wiggling toddler from falling.

"What is it, peanut?" you asked, standing up to comply his grabby hands and pick him up, allowing him to snuggle close.

"Y/N, Tony said we can have chicken nuggets for lunch!"

"Did he, now?" you said, watching Jarvis, who already made his way to the kitchen to prepare everything. "But we already had them for lunch yesterday."

"Don't matter." Peter wiggled in your grasp. "To the kitchen!"

  


* * *

  


"Is ... is everything okay with her?"

Pietro and Wanda looked up at the same time, Wanda's hand in your hair stilling as they both looked at Bucky, Sam - who had asked the question, and Steve, who were sitting on the table opposite of you.

You were sitting between the twins, arms resting on the table top with your head on top of them. Your eyes were closed, and you had hummed appreciatively when Wanda had begun to massage your scalp.

"With Y/N?" Pietro asked. "Sure. Just didn't get much sleep last night, yes?"

The last part was directed at you, but you only grumbled in annoyance, clutching onto Wanda's arm to hide your face.

Bucky just smiled and set down a large steaming cup of coffee in front of you. Immediately, you looked up, corners of your lips twitching up.

"Oh my god, James, I love you," you said, smiling softly as you closed your fingers around the material, bringing the cup close to inhale the sacred scent of your favorite liquid.

You were too absorbed into getting said liquid into your body as quickly as possible to notice the little hitch in Bucky's breath as he heard the words you had directed at him. Sam did, though, as well as Steve, and Wanda, and Pietro.

Wanda smiled softly, resuming her petting after you had put down the coffee with a happy little sigh and latched back onto her arm, closing your eyes again.

The urge to climb on the table and scream out how cute Bucky thought you were was incredible, and the only thing holding him back was the dirty smirk Sam threw him. Bucky flipped him off.

Steve cleared his throat, trying to get the attention away from Bucky. "So, uh, why didn't you get much sleep?"

Peeling one eye open, you glanced at Steve. "My brother said he would get more kills in Overwatch than me. Had to prove him wrong."

"Did you succeed?"

You grinned. "Of course. The first few hours we were always even, it was ridiculous. But then I had the _best_ battle in my life, you should have seen it, it was _amazing_!" Sitting upright again, you reached for the coffee to take a sip, eyes now wide and bright. "Had a new record of over fifty kills it was wild!"

This time Pietro was the only one who saw the love struck expression on Bucky's face as he watched you blabbering on about how you and Tony were gaming all night long.

  


* * *

  


You yawned, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes as you brought up a hand to hide your wide open mouth. Bucky closed his fingers around your lower hand, keeping you from stumbling as you had blinked and missed the little bump on the sidewalk.

"Whoops," you laughed, "thanks, James."

Bucky hummed in acknowledgment, keeping the hand on your arm until you were steady again ~~definitely not longer than necessary~~.

"Gotta go to bed early this night, right?" he said, a chuckle rumbling as he saw your pout.

"But it is Friday! No classes tomorrow! I can stay up as long as I want!"

This wasn't the first time Bucky had seen you sleep deprived. It was a little as if you were drunk. Though it was only speculation as Bucky had never seen you drunk before. But it was cute and you were pretty easy to handle, so Bucky had no complaints. (Although he did miss your lack of sass and sarcasm. Really. Didn’t think he would ever think something like this, but he did.)

"Sure you can, but maybe do it for me?"

You stared at Bucky for a long moment, lips slightly parted and brows furrowed, taking in the sweet smile on his lips.

Eventually, you smiled back. "Okay!"

Jeez, Bucky thought as he realized once more that he was in deep. _Very_ deep.

You yawned once again, gripping for Bucky’s arm for yourself this time to keep from stumbling – again.

“Hey, how ‘bout we stop by my apartment and you can take a nap there?” Bucky asked, just as you stopped walking, latched onto his arm fully and snuggled close. “It’s nearer and you look like ya gonna fall asleep walkin’.”

“Yeah,” you hummed, “just a sec.”

Bucky huffed, amusement lacing his tone as he fumbled for his water bottle in his backpack and said, “Here. Drinking somethin’ may ease your tiredness.”

“Thanks,” you said, grabbing the bottle. “You’re the best.”

Just as you put the opening of the bottle to your lips did a loud crash sound, soon followed by a couple more. They awfully sounded like gunshots.

Water streamed down your chin and dropped down onto your shirt where you had spilt it due to you flinching, hard. Eyes now wide open and body fully awake, it ignored the tired state it was originally in and made you look around frantically, searching for the source of the sudden sound.

You found it quickly as you saw the two men on a construction site nearby beginning to pick up the numerous amount of plasterboard panels that had fallen. A few curses were spit from one man.

It was only when the first shock had worn down that you noticed the kinda painful death grip Bucky had on your arm.

“James?” you called, closing the bottle of water before looking up to him as you got no response. You laid a hand on his, carefully prying open the fingers from their grip. “James?”

Bucky’s eyes were glazed over and he stared at nothing in particular. Worry growing, you softly patted his cheek, repeating his name once more. He blinked, eyes now focusing in on you, but he didn’t seem to recognize you.

“Is everything okay?”

Bucky drew in shallow breaths, his breathing pattern quickly accelerating. His gaze darted from spot to spot without a break and his palms suddenly felt clammy.

“Alright, James, you’re scaring me a bit here. What’s going on?”

You let his fingers grip yours, ignoring the slight stab of pain as he squeezed too hard. His mouth opened, but no word came out. Not knowing what else to do, you stood on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around him, one hand going through the short strands of his hair.

A tiny whimper sounded from Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys, it's been some time - again - but during Christmas time and uni before that, I hardly got time to really settle down and write. I'm sorry.
> 
> I hope you guys had an amazing Christmas (or whatever you were celebrating) and a good start into 2019!
> 
> Love


	14. Chapter 14

_Bucky’s eyes were glazed over and he stared at nothing in particular. Worry growing, you softly patted his cheek, repeating his name once more. He blinked, eyes now focusing in on you, but he didn’t seem to recognize you._

“ _Is everything okay?”_

_Bucky drew in shallow breaths, his breathing pattern quickly accelerating. His gaze darted from spot to spot without a break and his palms suddenly felt clammy._

“ _Alright, James, you’re scaring me a bit here. What’s going on?”_

_You let his fingers grip yours, ignoring the slight stab of pain as he squeezed too hard. His mouth opened, but no word came out. Not knowing what else to do, you stood on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around him, one hand going through the short strands of his hair._

_A tiny whimper sounded from Bucky._

  


* * *

  


Bucky had managed to stutter out the word “home,” you had managed to get him to his apartment as fast as possible considering the state he was in.

While you kicked off your shoes and shut the door, Bucky leaned against the wall right beside you, eyes closed, lips moving without any words leaving his throat. After you finished, you squatted down to untie his shoes for him, and he obediently lifted one foot after the other, letting you remove his sneakers.

“James,” you said quietly, “James, what do you want me to do?”

A few moments passed (it felt like hours) before Bucky succeeded in speaking again.

“C-cold. ‘M cold.”

You exhaled shakily. “Alright, love, come on. Let’s go … let’s go to the bedroom. Get some blankets. Everything will be okay.”

He let you willingly lead him to his bedroom, and you helped him to sit down, shed his jacket and then lay back.

“Do you want tea, or coffee, or something else? More blankets?” you asked, voice still low as to not startle him.

In answer, Bucky laced his fingers with yours, tugging until you laid down next him.

“Just h-hold me,” he whispered, eyes still glistening with fear. You complied instantly, shifted until you were in a comfortable position and let Bucky clung to you, let him rest his head on your chest to listen to your heartbeat.

At least, his breathing had stabilized, mirroring your own you were trying hard and fortunately achieved to keep calm.

Not long after, he drifted into a restless sleep, fingers curling and uncurling, the occasional whimper sounding. You just pulled him closer, held him a bit tighter, until you couldn’t fight your own returning fatigue anymore and fell asleep as well.

  


* * *

  


Bucky woke with a deep breath, realizing with relief that he could finally breathe again. He drew in a few carefully calculated breaths before he allowed himself to close his eyes again, snuggling closer into the warmth laying right next to him.

You sighed softly in your sleep, warm breath fanning over Bucky’s hair. Your grip on his shirt shifted and Bucky suddenly became very aware of the position the two of you were in:

He was curled into your side, one arm thrown over your stomach, fingers barely brushing your hand lying beside you. His head was resting on your shoulder, your arm curled around his head with your hand grabbing his own shoulder. Your cheek was mushed against his locks.

Satisfaction and contentment suffused him, and he closed the last bit of distance between your hands and laced his fingers with yours in a burst of confidence and lack of anxiety of your pushing him away.

Another deep sigh let your chest rise and sink visibly, and you squeezed his hand, shifting your fingers until they were interlaced comfortably.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, and yeah, well, you weren’t sleeping anymore. Bucky tensed, but you were quick to stroke your thumb over the soft skin of his hand, reassuring him. It worked, and before could even really think about it his posture had relaxed again.

“Better, I guess,” he said, voice a bit raspy. He got a bit distracted by your hand traveling upwards and into his hair, scratching his scalp.

“I, eh, ‘m sorry.”

Your fingers in his hair stilled, but only for a second before they picked up their gentle caressing again. “What are you sorry for?”

“For my, uh, little episode. I just … panicked. ‘M sorry I probably scared you.”

“A bit,” you admitted, “but it’s okay. I’m glad you could calm down. That _I_ could calm you down. I was worried.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you don’t have to be sorry. I just … you were scared too, right? I- you –“ You had trouble finding the right words. “I just don’t want you to be scared. James, you’re my friend and I -” short pause “and I love you.”

I love you. _You’re my friend._

“Still sorry.” Bucky squeezed your hand. “I love you, too,” he breathed. _As m_ _ore than a friend._

Your pointer finger smoothed over his cheek, stroking over the stubble forming there. “Do you want to talk about it? Why you had the panic attack?”

“I -” Bucky began, but finding himself unable to continue. Of course you knew what triggered the panic attack, but you didn’t know why it was able to trigger one. He wanted to tell you, because he trusted you, but … not now. Now he wanted to revel in your hold, your caresses, and the bittersweet ache in his chest that came with loving a _friend._

So he shook his head, soft hair tickling your skin. “Can we just stay for a bit?”

“Of course,” you whispered, “of course.”

You didn’t know it was possible for your heart to pound so hard you had the feeling it would burst your rib cage.  At some point, you thought it actually  _hurt_ , but you were sure it was only your imagination.

S till, it pounded on and on, even after Bucky had fallen asleep again; you were surprised if he  ha dn’t hear d it with his head lying so close to you heart.  Somewhere during, he had moved, arms around your middle and head now resting against the flesh of your tummy.

It was a struggle to calm down, and even when your breath had evened out and though you were still tired, you weren’t able to fall asleep again right away.

A t the same time, you felt content with Bucky in your arms,  glad that he seemed to feel better.

You allowed yourself to embrace him  and enjoy the  proximity .

  


* * *

  


“You had a panic attack?”

Bucky sighed at Steve’s indignant voice. “Yes. Could ya maybe not make a drama out of it?”

“Not a drama? Buck, this is a big deal! What happened? When and -”

“Steve,” Bucky interrupted. Really, the only thing missing was Steve to go and mother hen him. “Everything’s fine, now.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you should think about seeing a therapist or something like that?”

“I really don’t wanna see a therapist, Steve, I … I feel all right. Y/N took care of me.”

“Y/N?” Steve looked surprised. “When did it even happen?”

“Yesterday, when we were on our way home. Some guys dropped something on a construction site and I just got … startled, I guess.

“Y/N took me home. Stayed with me ‘til I felt better. Made sure I ate something before she had to leave.”

“When did she leave?”

“A few hours ago.”

Steve sighed a long sigh, staring at him for a few moments. “Did you tell her what happened  last summer ?”

Bucky grimaced. “No, I- not, yet. Some other time.”

“Alright,” Steve said, dropping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Stevie, ’m sure,” Bucky answered, his gaze dropping to his hands. Steve squeezed his shoulder one last time, then stood to go into the kitchen.

“You want coffee, too?” he asked, shrugging when Bucky shook his head no. Though, he stood as well, following Steve into his kitchen.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I might be in love with Y/N.”

Steve halted in his movements, looking up from where he was preparing his mug. “Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Bucky frowned. “Did ya just use sarcasm?”

“No!”

Okay, that was totally sarcasm. “Is there something you wan na tell me?” Bucky asked Steve, who had returned to making coffee.

Steve laughed, shaking his head with a fond smile on his face. “Everybody knows you have at least a crush on Y/N. A giant one. One that makes you smile that stupid smile of yours.  After the whole situation with that article Sam and me knew, and I am sure Wanda and Pietro do, too .  So, e verybody knows, except - of course – Y/N.”

“Yeah.” Bucky knew you didn’t know, became aware of it once again every time he thought back to the moment were you had comforted him after his panic attack.

I love you.  _You’re my friend._

W hen he looked at Steve, his best friend was already  watching him, sympathy painting his expression.  But he didn’t want Stevie to worry even more about him, so he smiled, maybe had to force it a bit, but he smiled.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I never had a panic attack and never experienced another one having a panic attack and I don't know if I portrayed it correctly - if there is a correct way to portray a panic attack.
> 
> Anyway, I am happy that I got this chapter ready way faster than the other ones. I hope you enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated - thanks in advance!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://secondxreality.tumblr.com)!


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